The Fates We Cannot Hear
by Star Crossed Writer
Summary: As future Emperor, Ling soon finds himself trapped by the position he fought to obtain, as he is urged to take a wife. For her part, Lan Fan fights to balance her emotions with her duty. Alas, does the intended bride for Ling have no say? The young leaders of a new generation are forced to forge their own destinies, for better or worse, through the decisions they make. HIATUS!
1. The Wisest Of Men

**Hello all! Thank you for finding interest in this story - this is a project I started a while ago, but which circumstances only recently pushed me to post. Hope you enjoy! I'd like to thank my anonymous Guest reviewer and Dotdodot for already giving me some feedback. **

**Dotdodot: Thanks for the catch! If you'll notice, I have tweaked Ling's age to match your expertise. ;) Keep it coming!**

**Also, the first few chapters of this are already written, but I will continue to publish on a weekly basis... just to give it that good ol' school feeling. :)**

**With that, and a disclaimer assuring you I am not the owner of this magnificent series, enjoy the show!**

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Ling was not a bookish man. Sure, he liked to read and sometimes even write, but he belonged on his feet, actively changing what he could and living life to the fullest. Unfortunately for him, his adventures seemed to have peaked early in Amestris. After all, nothing could quite top chasing, fleeing, and battling mostly immortal beings that were out to destroy everything he loved.

The adjustment, he supposed, was probably going to be the greatest hardship of becoming Emperor – the sitting around in an ornate throne and endlessly sifting through paperwork. Politics had always made his head hurt, what with all of the manipulation and grovelling, the back-stabbing and gossip. Ling himself was never above the occasional mischief and trickery if it meant a good laugh, and perhaps some stolen prize or food. Oftentimes, however, the dealing of court seemed so cold and impersonal. It was difficult to maintain the balance when his country's welfare was one of the sole things he was so passionate about.

This passion also served to act against him as he often had to force himself to attend to the duties of future Emperor. Having been trained and educated from a small age, Ling understood the obligations of the throne, and he even found interest and a cooler form of passion in policy making. When the policy-making was reduced to circular arguments within the council room, however, he found that he very much would rather be anywhere else in the world. Ling could master any style of fighting thrown at him, he could eat twice his weight in food in one sitting, and he could stay awake and alert for up to three days straight with no sleep, be he _could not stand _the piles of musty paperwork and tedious councils enforced by his Councilmen. His well-meaning, tradition-abiding, over-paid Councilmen.

These were the same Councilmen whom just so happened to be holding him custody at this very moment. Not that he was paying them any attention.

The old men were mostly talking among themselves, voices tumbling over each other in a mild bickering fashion that didn't seem efficient. The meeting was about things he really should, but could not, care more about – mostly political appearances and how he should look and act for the public to 'accept' him. Whether or not his people 'accepted' him was a minor problem to Ling – he was mostly concerned with how he could (and eventually _would, _as Emperor) protect them all.

This was the subject that plagued him the most as of late, and it was no idle one - unlike, in his opinion, the one that he was 'attending' now. His goals were ambitious, even he could realize that fact. He basically wanted to revolutionize his nation within the time that spanned his rule, which history could show had never really turned out well. Fast change and progress generally meant great sacrifice, whether economically, politically, or, most commonly, in blood and violence. Oftentimes, it was a deadly combination.

Needless to say, Ling knew he had to proceed carefully, walking on eggshells as he was. Even _thinking_ of how tenuous and dangerous revolution could be made his palms sweat a little in nervousness, and he shifted in his chair with a grimace, as if in a high-risk game of Amestrian chess. No one he knew would define Ling as a nervous person, or really even a cautious one for that matter, but his experiences in Amestris had left him with lessons he would not soon forget. Revolting, rioting, _angry _people could cause far more damage than anyone would care to admit - it was the blind violence which people were capable of that made the further goals of the homunculi feasible.

But it _was_ achievable, of that much he was certain. For all its outdated flaws, Ling was very proud of his nation, and confident in its capability. He saw it for what it could become and just _knew _that if he could get his people to see it too, there would really be little problem. After all, it wasn't as if he was changing the governmental system or even the grand political layout of the country. That would come later. In the meantime, he would continue as Emperor with his Councilmen, and focus on molding his country into something that really resembled a nation, instead of a patchwork quilt of extended families.

The problem that really weighed on him stemmed from the fact that he was young and impatient and could not bear to wait for propriety's sake. As it was, he would be the youngest Emperor to have serious diplomatic say in his country's affairs, never mind the fact that the Old Emperor was little more than a wheezing, tired old figurehead. Xing wasn't used to a strong Emperor, and he was banking on the fact that a strong Emperor was what the people _wanted _and wouldn't complain about. Ling may have disliked the intricacies of court politics, but he was not fool enough to be ignorant about the state of affairs in his nation: there was a strong divide between the wealthy families and the peons, and the latter surviving in feudal conditions while the former basked in the increasing luxuries of a new age of technology.

In the end, however, it didn't matter that Xing the country was ready for change, was ready for _him_: it mattered that the Xingese _people _might not trust him. As he knew from experience, trust was key if he was truly going to be able to protect his people the way he promised he would. To protect his people in this initial change, he needed to stay alive, and not be assassinated, for at least ten more years. To develop his change and progress the way it needed, he would have to hold out for much, much longer.

The philosopher's stone was, of course, the most prime candidate to complete this objective. With the incomplete philosopher's stone in his possession, Ling had returned to his clan as a hero. The stone itself was still locked away in a safe place that no one but he and his closest trustees knew of.

The plan had been to use the stone to become immortal immediately after retrieving it. As far as anyone else knew, that _was_ what had happened. He was already known as the Immortal Prince, the ruler who could not be slain. He had not, however, accepted the stone into his body yet. Indeed, it was only because of good fortune that only the eager and amateur had attempted to test the title of "Immortal Prince". Assassination attempts had always been inevitable, but thus far the attackers had been sloppy enough that Lan Fan, and even himself once, had always pulled him through with a comfortable margin of success. Still, there was always the possibility that a more serious threat lurked beneath the Xingese nation, a deadly threat that they might not be able to stop in time. The lord smirked against his folded hands, not for the first time, in grim humor at the razor-sharp game he was playing. In the meeting, his dependable Councilmen tossed ideas about social events over his head, and they seemed to have forgotten the urgency of his goals and the tight rope they all had to walk to achieve them. Then again, most of them weren't aware that the man (or boy, as some insisted) before them could be killed as easily as any one of them. Irresponsible and dangerous, yes; but it all boiled down to the fact that he had reservations.

First and most obvious, there was the matter of its ingredients. Ling had never told anyone except for the Emperor himself what the stone was made of, and it seemed that Mei Chang had also kept the information close to her. The troubling moral concept of using human souls to fuel his body for his own purposes had never lost its edge. When he had shared his body with Greed, there was always the tumultuous ocean of bitterly tormented souls across which he had to concentrate. And yet, as impossible as it was to comprehend, sharing that ocean with another conscious being – namely, Greed – had made it bearable. In fact, he had been so often concentrating on finding Greed's weak spots and searching for chances to reclaim his body that he was able to block out the ocean all together. Ling often wondered if he would be able to keep his sanity among the sorrowful cries of those trapped inside of him when he was all alone. Besides, there was no way they could predict the nationwide reaction to such a horrible truth, or what chaos would ensue because of it. With the current state of affairs, additional controversy was not in the best interests for the country, or Ling's health for that matter.

Ling smiled a small ironic smile at the thought of current state that Xing was in. With the outward appearance of Immortal Prince, Ling had immediately been chosen as next in line to the throne. It had been his first proposal to the Councilmen to commence the integration of the fifty clans into one. As he had said in Amestris, he wanted to protect all of the people in his country. He felt that such a lofty goal would be far easier to accomplish if they acted as one instead of fifty. Yet, however true that sentiment was, it did not mean that the transitioning period was simple. Piles of maddeningly wearisome legal documents and forms had to be taken care of, in addition to the understandable tensions that had been rising throughout the nation. For as long as their history had been recorded, the fifty clans and their representatives had fought and clamored over each other to reach the throne before their brethren. After such deep-grained rivalry, a union was no easy task. The simple irony of his intentions and their outcomes had never escaped him: his goal was to be able to protect all of his people, but using the means to do so meant creating conflict and putting peoples' lives at risk.

Alas, there seemed to be little way around it. Ling sat up a little straighter, reminding himself as he continually did that this was an uphill battle. He needed all the help he could get.

Then again, aside from the main issues, a lesser con against the stone was the simple fact that he had already endured its immense power. The knowledge of the excruciating pain alone that accepting the stone into his body meant made him hesitant enough. He still shuddered and his gut still clenched in unease when he remembered the fire in his veins, being stretched thin, unraveled, and sewn back together with completely different thread. It was not an experience he would take on again lightly. What was more, no one could be entirely sure it would give him the same power it had the first time. Back then, there was a homunculus in the stone, and it was really mostly Greed's power that had made him so strong in the first place.

Ling's brown furrowed as his head dipped lower to his chest in thought. The third reason why he shouldn't accept the stone into his body seemed both crucially important and yet whimsically idle. He wasn't sure how to sort out the conflicted feelings he had about the problem itself – all he knew for sure was that it bothered him, and thus was a problem.

There was Lan Fan to worry about. Ling grimaced at the way that sounded in his head. To be fair, it was not a problem for Lan Fan alone. Her entire family will be affected as well.

If Ling became immortal, there was no real reason why he would need body guards any longer. Such was the allure of being an Immortal Emperor, but such was the double edged sword. Lan Fan's family had been protecting the lords of the Yao Clan for generations. Money and position was not the issue. He would, without a second thought, provide her family with all the wealth and comfort they would need. The problem was that they did not know how to do anything else.

The simple solution was to allow them to continue protecting him even when he was immortal. After all, if the stone ended up not giving him the power of a homunculus, there was a chance that it would only make him heal faster, and live longer – there was no guarantee that he could not die before his time, even with the liquid stone in his blood. In such a case, he would still need the help of Lan Fan and her family line as the Immortal Prince. But it was all so _unclear, _he didn't know, and could not afford to make the same mistake twice. It would destroy him.

The unbidden memory of that crucial moment in Amestris made him clench his hands reflexively until his knuckles showed white and his skin creaked like leather. The familiar stinging of pain, regret, and helplessness ached through him as it had ever since that day when Grandfather Fu had resolutely fought by him. The honorable warrior had fought even though Ling really had been the Immortal Prince at the time.

_He died to protect me._

The level of grief and guilt that he still felt, the anguish at losing the old man, was remarkable, really. It had been almost two years, he realized with a little shock, since their return from Amestris, and Ling was beginning to doubt that these feelings would ever ebb completely. Sure, it could never be as intense as it had been in the first few months. Those had been the hardest. He hadn't been able eat anything, to even speak in more than one-sentence answers. But it had gotten better. Life, in the end, moves on.

Now it was more like a hollow in his chest that he occasionally forgot about, but which he would suddenly fall into – it would remind him that it hadn't always been hollow. Something irreplaceable had been ripped from him, and it was a thing that could not be regained through all the souls in Xing. Ling closed his eyes, allowing the memories and the feelings to wash over him without resisting. He had found that it was easier that way. The ache continued to swell and fade as it would, and he knew from experience that there was no rushing its retreat. His throat tightened painfully, but his eyes remained dry. He was past the tears, at least.

It was only by his good fortune that the Councilmen seemed so wrapped up in discussing an object on the table that his agitation went unnoticed.

It was his weakness that had killed Fu. This was a fact that he accepted. Ling frowned in thought as the Hollow ached a little more, imagining what Fu would say. '_A sad man who laments his sadness is doomed to be perpetually unhappy'_, or something of the like. The thought did manage to coax a shallow smile from the prince. He had never been good at either coming up with, or heeding, the advice of old adages.

Fu had been better than a father to him his whole life, and Ling knew the old man would scold him for these remaining feelings of such _sadness_ if he could. And yet… it was so hard to remember that. It was becoming so increasingly difficult to forgive himself for what happened that day.

The Councilmen nearest him were beginning to look at him inquiringly. Ling quickly cleared his throat and reminded himself of where he was. His thought process had completely derailed and gone off track, and his composure suffered from it. This was not the place to dwell on the past – this was the place for control. He told himself that he could brood later, and only then did his hands begin to relax. Meanwhile, the Councilmen were returning to their murmured conversation, gesturing to Ling and nodding as if in acquisition. At least it seemed that their discussion – which, Lind realized bitterly, could have easily been conducted without him – was coming to an end. After pretending to care for a few more moments, Ling returned to his original train of thought.

The point was, he had been _immortal_, shot through the head and unaffected. And somehow, due to that insane logic that holds this world together, the thousands – if not _millions _– of souls that kept him so invincible were reduced to nothing. The awe-inducing truth was that not one of them could replace that soul that was returned to the Creator that day. His immortality had not made him able to keep only one of his most loyal subjects alive.

He would not let the same happen to Lan Fan. Not for all the souls and immortality in the world.

_And so the cycle repeats itself. Immortality is the best way I can become Emperor, yet immortality is worthless compared to the worth of my subjects._

Ling thoughtfully picked up a figurine before him that represented the Yao Clan. It was the figure of a dark haired Lord with legs and arms crossed, and eyes closed in apparent meditation. The peaceful stance was offset by the presence of a sword in each of his hands, held in a formation so that they came together in a point just above his head. Between his eyebrows was a minuscule Yin Yang symbol. It was meant to represent the balance that the Yao clan stood for, the endless dance – when peace could only be obtained by force, or when force needed to be offset by peace.

_Immortal or not, I cannot fight armies or quell revolutions on my own. Life is fragile, and not everyone can be guaranteed endless life. _

Ling sighed and pressed his eyes closed as he set the figurine back to its rightful spot. His arguments with himself in respects to the stone always went like this. It was an antagonizing circle. The prize was great, but was the price greater? At this rate, he wasn't sure if he would ever have a perfect solution.

"- this is the perfect solution." A Councilman was saying. "Ling? Prince Ling, are you listening to us?"

Ling tensed, but raised his head slowly, schooling his features into his default courteous, mild expression that usually worked well for politics. They all looked at him expectantly.

"Councilman Shi, you _must _repeat your solution once more." Ling suggested with feigned sagacity. "Such brilliance should not be uttered only once."

One of the Councilmen closest to him, a man known as Cheng, cleared his throat to disguise a chuckle. Ling's mouth twitched upward ever so slightly at his reaction: it was likely that Cheng would comment on it after the meeting was over. Cheng had a fatherly way of chiding Ling for his occasional flippancy in a manner that seemed more like encouragement.

The Councilman who had spoken in the first place – the man named Shi – grunted in a way that said he knew exactly what Ling was up to. He had no choice, however, but to consent and repeat himself for the prince's benefit.

"What we have been so adamantly and _attentively_ addressing is the _substantial _problem of your appearance as a leading figure of Xing," Shi said, gruff and a little irritable. "As a prince so young becoming the Emperor, our people need to know that your choices will be grounded and firm, and will not lead our nation down the wrong path."

Ling frowned slightly at the implication, but he knew logically that this was not an unfounded belief. Always watchful, Cheng nevertheless must have noticed his reaction, and he spoke next in more compromising tones.

"My Lord, everyone in this room knows that they can trust you to become one of the greatest Emperors Xing has ever seen," he stated firmly. With a quick glance around the conference table, Ling noted all of the gravely nodding heads that affirmed his proclamation.

"However, public appearance is, in fact, a very real concern." Cheng continued. Shi seemed to sit a little straighter and look a little more important at the open admission. "The overwhelming majority of your people have not had the privilege to speak to you, and many of the clans most likely have vile rumors spreading about you due to the contention between clans. It is of the utmost importance that the people gain trust in you, and quickly. The best way to do so would be to begin taking on the public demeanor not of a premature Emperor, but that of a man who has no intentions of desertion. In this way, we can begin to make known to the Empire that being ruler of this land is not simply a whim or competition to their prospective Emperor."

Ling listened to all of this with pensiveness, and he slowly nodded when Cheng was finished. He had to admit, he hadn't thought about it that way, but it made sense. He had acknowledged himself that he needed to gain the peoples' trust before he moved forward, but he had not connected that necessity with what he considered to be the frivolity of public appearances. The prince sighed in admittance. Taking small measures to make his public image more presentable was only one of the many things he would need to consider when taking on the formidable role of Emperor.

"Thus," Shi spoke up. "We have come to the conclusion that it is imperative that you marry."

Yes, it made perfect sen –

_Wait, what?_

Any shred of his regained composure was instantly dashed to bits. The once proud, collected Ling Yao suddenly felt as though he had been doused with cold water. He managed to keep his eyes from widening in alarm, but his jaw went slack and his breathing halted as he waited from someone to announce that this was a prank. Shi, misinterpreting his reaction in his own self-competence, continued proudly.

"It just so happens that the 'perfect solution' I mentioned earlier was the choosing of the ideal bride for a budding Emperor."

_Perfect solution? Ideal bride?!_

Ling felt an odd mixture of cold surprise and hot embarrassment battle for dominance in his stomach. He had committed the cardinal mistake of the battlefield: He had underestimated. He had most _definitely_ not been expecting this, though perhaps he should have been. Ling was far more overwhelmed than he had ever thought a dusty old conference could make him, and he looked like an idiot for it. Realizing that he was gaping, he clicked his mouth shut and forced himself to swallow a few times. This was what he got for not being involved in the conversations with these nosey old men, he supposed. Now he just had to figure out how to reverse the situation. After all, marriage was out of the question, wasn't it? He'd had little to none romantic experience with the opposite sex. In the years when other young men his age were strutting for done-up ladies and courting, he had been battling in Amestris and burying himself in the workings of a nation. He wasn't even sure he had what it took to be a… _a husband._

Of course, arranged marriages were not unheard of in Xing. They often had to be made for political advance. For some reason, he supposed, he just hadn't thought it would apply to him. Not this early on, at least. Maybe not ever. It was unreasonable, he realized now, but that didn't make it any less true or less appealing.

Ling's silent objections were cut short when his attention was drawn to something that a Councilman had slid across the table to him.

"This is a picture of your prospective bride. Her name is Bilan, of the Xu Clan. She is sixteen years old, and has been raised as a Lady her entire life. She has even gone so far as to spread her kindness to other clans, and is well known and loved. As you will be uniting the clans of Xing into one, it will only be necessary to have one bride, and so we must chose very carefully indeed. She would be an optimal match, and would gain the trust of most of the clans of Xing," Shi advertised.

There was a ring of truth to his words; the face in the picture looked vaguely familiar to Ling, and he seemed to recall an outsider helping his clan with irrigation problems a few years back.

_He's right,_ Ling admitted begrudgingly. _There probably couldn't be a better Empress. But it still doesn't sit quite right with me._

Cheng seemed to notice Ling's hesitation, because he decided to throw in his bit as well.

"You may also notice, young Lord, that she is not exactly hard on the eyes," he said with a grin in his words.

The unexpected prompting startled a burst of short laughter from Ling's lips. He studied the picture before him.

_Right again, _he noted.

Bilan had a smiling face that was creamy white, with dark animated eyes that shined happiness and generosity. Her black hair was long and well kept, catching the rays of the light glossily in intricate loops and waves. Her dress was vibrant and artfully embroidered, hugging a well-shaped body that, he noted with a rush of heat to his throat, was undeniably luring. Delicate fingers held a flower from one of the many blooming bushes of a lush garden behind her. The overall effect was not unpleasing.

But should he marry her off of a photo and some well-spoken words? The idea seemed rash to him, despite being advised from some of the wisest and most trustworthy men in Xing.

"I suggest we send her an invitation to stay at the royal palace for an extended amount of time," Shi piped up, sensing a drop in Ling's guard. "Perhaps we could hold a celebratory feast and give the young Lord a chance to meet the Lady for himself."

"Yes, I agree," Cheng nodded. "Let Ling meet Bilan and acquaint himself with her character. Allow him to decide for himself if she would be a good match for his rule. After all, there is no reason to rush into anything without thinking." He added, with a pointed look at Shi. The other Councilman shifted a little, but Cheng continued on without notice. "Besides, the young Lord's eighteenth year is less than a month away, is it not? Perfect timing, it seems, to begin considering this commitment."

Ling blinked in surprise again, and realized Cheng was right. He had forgotten how soon he would become eligible – not just for becoming an active Emperor, it seemed, but for marriage as well. Had time really slipped by so quickly? He resisted the temptation to shake his head in disbelief, struggled to take it all in stride. But really, what other option did he have?

The young prince bowed his head in acquisition. "Very well. Send her word that there is a room waiting for her at the Palace, and she may bring whomever she must to feel comfortable."

Shi nodded solemnly, but Ling caught the gleam in his eye and got the uncanny feeling that he had tangled himself into a game of matchmaker. With an inward grimace, he decided that now was as good a time as ever to make his escape.

"Well, if that is all that need be decided for this meeting, I'm famished. If you'll excuse me…"

The rest took his cue and got up from their seats, murmuring happily amongst themselves about things like a young royal romance and pork dumplings. Without another word, Ling left with a slight frown upon his face.

_Marriage… is this what I must do to be true to my people? _

His ponderings were interrupted by the familiar sound of his stomach rumbling. With a smile, Ling began to clear his head of this burdensome development.

_I suppose I really am hungry. Not surprising, but a welcome distraction all the same._

Ling tucked the picture of Bilan Xu loosely into his pocket, and vowed to think of the matter no more until her likeness arrived in person.


	2. Whispering Wind

**Hello all! Thank you for finding interest in this story - this is a project I started a while ago, but which circumstances only recently pushed me to post. Hope you enjoy! I'd like to thank my anonymous Guest reviewer, Dotdodot, Super Sexy Saiyan for already giving me some feedback.**

**Dotdodot: Thanks for the catch! If you'll notice, I have tweaked Ling's age to match your expertise. ;) Keep it coming!**

**Super Sexy Saiyan: I really enjoy writing Lan Fan's character, but unfortunately you'll have to wait another chapter! :(**

**But! The good news is that I introduce you to my OC, who I quite like, and there is a bit of plot development to be had. Hope you're as excited to read as I am to write! I didn't re-do all of this chapter, so I'll probably make more tweaks later, but my computer is acting wonky right now. Enjoy the show!**

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Bilan Xu sighed as she let the warmth of a newly brewed cup of tea slide down her throat. This was her favorite time of day, and spent in her favorite place. The blossoming flowers of her garden perfumed the air and comforted her after a morning of political intricacies. Despite all of the help she had given to the fifty clans of Xing, and despite the good name she had won for her family, her advisors were beginning to put her to the side. And why? Only because everyone was convinced she needed to find a husband and produce an heir within the year, or else she would become a spinster.

The lady sighed again, this time out of frustration rather than of contentment.

_Honestly. Why must my family hold such outdated views? I'm only sixteen!_

The wind blew ripples in her tea cup and made the flowers whisper to each other. There was so much she still wanted to do for her country. The people of the Xang Clan were being overworked because their crops were not growing while the neighboring clan prospered. If she acted as a mediator, there was a good chance that the wealthy clan would be willing to help. The Nao Clan was running out of a water supply that could easily be remedied if only they were given the funds and man power. While she was of only minute help in the manual labor department, her family had been saving for decades for exactly that reason. Even their own clan struggled with keeping poverty down and feeding everyone they could as the clan expanded in numbers each year.

What was her mother's response to these arguments?

_"You have been an enormous help to your family, daughter. But these are the problems the Emperor should be handling, not a pretty girl who should be starting a family."_

Humph. It didn't matter that these were the problems that the Emperor should be handling. The fact was that he _wasn't _handling them, whether the reason was because of an overload of problems in the empire, or a simple disregard for his nation's wellbeing. If it was the former, Bilan saw no reason why she should not attempt to lessen the ruler's load. If it was the latter, well… then she already _had _a family to look after. Her family was her nation, and there was never an end to its needs.

Bilan's finger idly traced the smooth porcelain rim of her teacup, painted with nightingales and flowers.

_Then again, _she pondered. _I suppose there _is _a more selfish reason why I don't want to marry just yet._

"A message for you, My Lady!"

The chipper voice of a younger girl startled Bilan out of her pensive mood. The older girl smiled kindly.

"Yin, we've told you before, you don't need to go running around doing household chores. You are our cousin, not a servant girl in need of pay," she admonished with playful firmness. Yin, nearly eleven years old, smiled toothily.

"But I _want _to help, Bilan! I want to travel and help villagers just like you when I get older, but Papa won't let me just yet," she said. The girl's eyes shone with ambition and passion that was endearing while she was still young, but which Bilan knew – from experience – that elders would cease indulging once she aged. The older girl could see a lot of herself in the animated child; it made her fondness for Yin bitter-sweet.

Yin continued, oblivious to the soft gleam of affection and regret in her cousin's eyes. "In the meantime, I have to help with anything I can! Even if it means acting like a maid!"

Bilan shook herself from her pensive mood and chuckled, obligingly taking the letter that the girl had delivered. As the wind began to pick up again, she slid it under her half-empty tea cup to make sure it would not blow away.

"Very well, then. If you'd like, you can help me with my garden sometime soon. It has already been trimmed and weeded for today, but it will need maintenance soon enough," Bilan offered. Her smile grew as Yin's eyes widened with delight.

"Yes, of course!" Yin burst in what, Bilan took note, her mother would consider a very unlady-like volume. Yin seemed to notice too, for suddenly seemed to remember herself as the tips of her ears became pink. She heroically tried to compose herself, first from the excitement, then from the embarrassment.

"I mean… ah… Yes," her eyes found her feet, and she bowed for effect. "I would be honored to help My Lady with her prized garden."

Bilan found that she could no longer maintain the face of indifference to the girl's inward struggle. Laughter tumbled forth from her with the kind of spontaneous force that can only be had when laughter is restrained. Yin's little performance tugged at her heart in more ways than one, and she found herself pulling the surprised girl into a hug that surprised her even more. Bilan could see the impropriety of her actions, but found that she did not regret a second of it when Yin quickly relaxed from her stiffened posture and nuzzled into Bilan's midsection. Bizarrely, she could feel her throat tighten and her eyes prick, but she chased the silly reaction away with the soothing sent of Yin's hair. She could not resist kissing her sweet cousin on the cheek.

"Promise me you will never change, Yin." Bilan requested, knowing even as she said it that it was a promise that could not be kept. Childhood ambition rarely had the opportunity to be pursued across the demands of tradition. Yin looked up into the eyes of the cousin she saw as an older sister, with a gaze that seemed suddenly mature and understanding. She, too, was aware of the trap in such a promise.

Yet, with the kind of confidence and faith that only youth can have in the future, Yin smiled back brightly. "I promise, Bilan."

Bilan smiled too, and she found her heart inexplicably lighter as she rubbed a smudge on her cousin's cheek away. It wasn't forced and she felt reassured, as if Yin was the elder one giving her comfort. Perhaps, in a way, she was. The young Lady sighed once more, a mixture of happy and puzzled, before stepping back.

"Good, I'm glad." Bilan said in a way that obviously was in reply to Yin's promise to help with the garden, but which also applied to their more tender moment. "I look forward to working with you, young Lady-in-training." Raising an ironic brow, she bowed with exaggerated elegance, a fitting response to the younger girl's awkward bow earlier. Yin hid a stray giggle behind her hand.

Bilan took on a more sincere expression as she straightened. "You will make a fine addition to the aiding families of this country someday."

Yin beamed brightly and bowed once more, this time with genuine gratefulness.

"Thank you so much, Lady Bilan! I have to get back to work now, but I'll be back to help garden soon!"

Without a sound on the packed dirt ground beneath her, Yin scampered off as quickly as she had come. Bilan watched her go, feeling decidedly happier. She reached toward the new letter from under the teacup, and even as she nudged the crisp white corner toward her, some of the neat handwriting on the front caught her eye:

_"-m the Emperor"_

Instantly her smile turned into a slight frown of confusion.

"'From the Emperor…'" she muttered.

_What could possibly be –_

"I thought that girl would never leave," a deep, teasing voice spoke warmly next to her ear.

Bilan gasped in shock and jerked her hand so hard it knocked the teacup off the table to shatter on the ground. She whipped around ready to defend herself, only to find herself nose-to-nose with her opponent. After a moment, his identity registered in her mind, and she nearly did not even attempt to restrain herself from the compelling urge to smack him.

"_Zhou!_"

The impish man before her smiled innocently.

"Bilan!" he mimicked.

The irresolute line that was Bilan's mouth twitched between an indulgent smile and a disapproving frown. She finally settled on the latter, but the amused gleam in her eye made it apparent that she was not serious, nor was she about to send him away. Nevertheless, she crossed her arms across her chest in defiance of his care-free attitude.

"You made me break my fine china. _Again."_

The mischievous mouth before her quirked upward, and the dark-haired boy shrugged his broad shoulders uncaringly, giving her a coy look.

"As long as your precious feet are not marred, I see no reason to be – "

_"Bilan! What was that sound I heard?"_

All too soon the comfortable air around them seemed to shatter and grow tense as two sets of eyes darted to the house up the stone walkway.

"Just the wind, Mama!" Bilan called back quickly, hoping the hasty answer would buy some time. Turning back to her clandestine friend, her tone turned regretful.

"Unfortunately, others hold different opinions than you do about fine china. My mother will think me too clumsy to help the clans anymore at this rate."

A small smile was returned to her companion's now alert expression. Bilan's mother could not, of course, know of his presence – she did not even know that Zhou and Bilan knew each other's names, much less that they often met in secret. But never often enough.

The reality of that little thought made Bilan impulsive as she threw her arms around the neck of the only person who expected nothing from her, and who she wished she could devote everything to. Zhou, not usually accustomed to such physical displays of affection, paused a moment before nuzzling into Bilan's shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist. If Bilan closed her eyes, all she could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the firmness of his chest, could smell only his scent mixed with the essence of the flower garden. In that moment, she could imagine that they were free. She cherished moments like these.

"So it would seem… about the china, that is," he replied somewhat begrudgingly. He pulled back a little so that he could look into her eyes. His hand came up to brush gently against her chin with surprising tenderness considering the callouses of the hand. The thin layer of mirth on the surface gave way to a deeper feeling that Bilan could read in his eyes.

Every time she tasted that fountain of unknown emotion in his eyes, she could feel the blossom of warmth that bloomed from her chest and crawled up her neck as she did now. Zhou's eyes were dark and usually unfathomable, and she made no assumption that it was because of her own abilities that she could understand them so well. Despite the fact that they had known each other since they were children, Zhou could still be as inscrutable to her as if they were strangers.

It was only because he trusted her that he let her see what he was feeling, and that fact would never cease to do incredible, foreign things to her stomach. When Zhou leaned forward and gently kissed her flushed cheek, she was not surprised to feel the sensation redouble its efforts in making her look like a love-struck fool. Of course, that _was _what she was, but -

"I love you." He whispered in her ear.

Bilan blinked in surprise at the sudden, unexpected proclamation. They had been seeing each other romantically for more than six months. It was not the first time either of them had said those three little words, but Zhou did not say such things lightly – As the rustling and shuffling noises behind them increased, however, Bilan understood.

"But I have to go now. With luck, our next visit will be much longer," he finished quietly. Bilan nodded.

"_Bilan!"_

Turning her head automatically, Bilan only had the warning of a small gust of wind and a chill replacing Zhou's body heat before she realized that he had disappeared. Not knowing whether to feel relieved or melancholy, she turned fully to face a new rather problematic development.

Her mother.

"I _know_ what wind sounds like, and that was no wind," her mother's hassled voice continued from behind a tall shrub. Bilan glanced guiltily at the shattered teacup at her feet. Mama was not a particularly vain woman, but she did not tolerate waste either.

Even as Bilan steeled herself for a stern lecture, the woman in question appeared, looking harried and suspicious. It took her characteristically sharp grey eyes less than a second to assess the damage of the crime scene, managing to make Bilan feel as though she was all of six years old again. The young Lady held in a sigh. No matter what age she was, she suspected that effect would never change.

"Yes," her mother began disapprovingly. "'_The wind'_ indeed."

Bilan bowed low in apology so that her hair hung down around her face. She desperately hoped that her blush was fading while it was hidden – or that her mother would at least assume it was from embarrassment rather than… well, what it _was _from.

"I am sorry, Mama. A… bird… flew past me so quickly that it startled me. Please forgive my clumsiness," she prayed to every god that existed that her mother thought nothing of the small pause she took. Bilan had never been a very adept at making quick lies.

Unfortunately for her, her mother had _always _been frighteningly skilled at detecting them.

She felt a fan tap her chin, and her respectful bow was steadily raised until her eyes met her mother's once more. They were squinted in a way that said 'I know you're hiding something from me', but they did not seem unkind. After a tense moment when Bilan didn't know what would happen next, her mother finally allowed a small, good-natured smile.

"Well, lucky for you, that teacup was from a gift set that your father's sister gave us," she said as she stooped to begin cleaning up the mess. Bilan quickly began to help her, feeling as though she had just passed judgment and was being allowed to live. "I have never been overly fond of that woman."

The daughter couldn't help a small smile at her mother's bluntness. The older woman may have been extremely traditional, but that rarely stopped her from expressing her thoughts.

"However," the Lady continued as she carefully collected the broken china in a handkerchief. "You must be more careful, Bilan. This is the third teacup you've broken in as many months. If you continue like this much longer, we'll be out of china within a year or two!"

Bilan flushed at the truth of the statement, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. She _did _seem to get rather clumsy when Zhou was around…

"By the way, child, what is that in your hand?"

Surprised by the change of subject, Bilan stopped reaching towards the china and looked down. Sure enough, the white envelope that Yin had delivered was still clutched there, completely forgotten about until now.

"Oh, this. Yin ran it to me. I haven't actually opened it yet…" she paused, looking once again at the addressing title. "But… it seems to be from the Emperor."

Her mother's eyebrows raised considerably, china forgotten.

"_What?"_

Bilan froze for a moment, not really knowing how to react. Her mother's reaction made her realize just what the words 'from the Emperor' meant. She sucked in a lungful of air in shock. The most powerful man in their nation, the one _battles _were fought over, had written with ink on piece of paper and had sent it to _her. _Well, it was more probable that he had ordered someone to write it –

"Well don't just sit there, child, open it!"

Bilan let out a breathy laugh with the air she had been holding in at her mother's obvious excitement. It hadn't really seemed real until now, but if it was enough to shock a woman like her mother, it was real alright. Sliding a nail under the wax seal, Bilan bit her lip and began to babble.

"I wonder what it could be about. Maybe the Emperor is finally noticing our work and it giving us funds… or maybe he even wants to get personally involved!" Bilan was having trouble keeping her racing mind in check. The Emperor had such power that it seemed to reach the countless miles from the palace straight to Bilan's fingers as they shook with nervous anticipation.

With the pristine white paper unfolded, her impressive mother was beginning to look more like a bubbly schoolgirl. Bilan's teeth began to worry her lip as her eyes scanned the writing.

"Well, what does it say?!"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "It's… an invitation. Here, look."

For once her mother complied without hesitation, leaning over to read the neat writing on the letter.

_"You are to stay at the Emperor's palace for a celebratory feast held in honor of Prince Ling, heir of the Yao clan, soon to become Emperor.  
Transportation will be provided for you within a week of your receiving this letter, and you need spend no expense. You will bring as many attendants as you wish to ensure your stay is comfortable.  
We look forward to your attendance._

_-Councilmen of the Emperor"_

They both simply sat and stared at this unexpected gift with only the flapping of the paper in the breeze to fill the silence. Bilan personally couldn't believe such an invitation would be extended to their family. Though they carried the name 'Xu', they were not the immediate family of the Old Emperor's wife: the Twelfth Empress was Bilan's aunt and her father's sister. As such, they generally received little publicity.

Bilan was jerked from her ponderings when her mother broke the silence.

"How curious," her mother murmured. A breeze passed and blew their hair away from their faces, and Bilan noticed that the familiar grey eyes were narrowed at the paper and seemed almost distressed.

"Mama? What's wrong?" Bilan asked. Her mother simply sighed and looked away, only to return her attention to the object in front of her.

"Nothing, really. Your mother is just being silly. But…" the steely woman paused long enough to look suspiciously at the letter once more, scanning it carefully. "… The way this invitation is written… it seems more like an order."

"Hmm?" Bilan took another look at the words on the paper, trying to see what her mother saw.

This time, she noted the phrases like "You are requested" and "You will bring", as if there was no question as to their attendance. She admitted that some of the wording _did_seem a little forceful…

"But why would they possibly _order _us to attend a celebratory feast? It's not as though we're all that important in the system of royalty. We've probably only been invited in the first place because some more important family declined. Surely it can't be more than a coincidence."

Bilan's mother nodded her head quickly in agreement, though her mouth stayed in an unhappily pursed line. Handing the letter back to Bilan, she began to busy herself with picking up the broken teacup once more, collecting the last shards in her handkerchief.

"I told you I was simply being silly," The older woman sighed. Bilan nodded and tucked the letter away in her robe, though she noted that her mother did not at all seem reassured. "Now go respond to those business letters we received this morning. You have always been better with words than I am."

If her mother was trying to change the subject, it worked. Instantly Bilan's mind was filled with the horrors that stacks of business letters could bring – and since her father was away visiting other clans, the paperwork fell to the women of the household.

"Yes, Mama." Bilan rose obediently, despite the reluctance and simple lack of motivation that weighed her steps. Frankly, she thought that her mother simply wanted to get out of the job herself… but she was really in no position to argue. She needed to be the best representative of her family that she could be, seeing as she had no brothers to continue the family line. It was agreed that the Xu family tradition would continue under her husband's name when she was married, so in the meantime she was trained as a son would be as far as the politics of her position meant.

She was walking up the dirt path to their home, already thinking about what responses she would have to be writing, when her mother's voice interrupted her progress.

"You might as well think about what you want to bring to the Palace while you're at it," her mother added from behind her. Surprised, Bilan paused and looked at her mother, whose back was facing her daughter.

"We leave in a week, but you'll surely want to impress Prince Yao as much as possible," she continued. With a smile on her face, she turned her head to regard her stunned daughter. "Don't look so shocked. Just forget about what I said and try to enjoy the trip as much as you can. It isn't every day that you get to go to the Emperor's Palace."

Emperor's Palace_…_

When the words finally sunk in, a wild and quite unlady-like grin broke out on Bilan's face.

_The Emperor's Palace!_

Somehow, hearing her infallible mother speak so matter-of-factly about such an extraordinary visit made it so much more real than when they had been talking about it seriously. She was going to the _Emperor's Palace!_

"Of course, Mama! I can't wait!"

Probably looking no more dignified than young Yin had looked not so long ago, Bilan practically floated the rest of the way up the dirt path. She found that, at the end of the day, she could barely remember what she wrote in response to the business letters assigned to her. Sleep was an elusive luxury, but her dreams were full of an enchanted palace full of possibilities.

And yet, when her daughter left, the Lady of the House re-adorned her strangely solemn air. As a political veteran who had seen quite her fair share of the dealings in the Xingese Court, she could predict what her green daughter could not. A girl Bilan's age and of her reputation had only one use to the Emperor's Council, especially with the otherwise overlooked family connections that she had.

It was with this unnerving hunch that Lady Sunako Xu, like her daughter, had trouble finding sleep that night. For, despite her urges on the matter, she knew how much her daughter did not yet want to marry. Truth be told, she was not sure she truly wanted to let her go just yet.

It was only in the wee hours of the morning that all the inhabitants of the Xu household found rest, though one end slept with blissful imaginings, and the other with fitful worries.

* * *

**Endnote: I'm thinking about changing the title of this story to something a little more creative. The title "The Fates Who Cannot Hear" and several other variant forms have been bouncing around in my head. Any opinions? Thanks!**


	3. The Weakest of Strengths

**Hey guys! Thank you again to the reviewers of the last chapter: I got some good feedback on a title too. Dotdodot had the good idea of changing "The Fates Who Cannot Hear" to "The Fates We Cannot Hear", but I'm still undecided. A vote? Yes! A vote sounds fantastic!**

**1)The Fates Who Cannot Hear**

**2) The Fates We Cannot Hear**

**So get back to me on that. :) I have officially updated and edited this chapter with very intense care because THIS IS THE LAN FAN CHAPTER! :D I actually love writing Lan Fan. In the meantime:**

**-Super Sexy Saiyan: I am SO glad you like Bilan! I have this horrible fear that the curse of Bad Middle School Writing will come back to haunt me and turn all of my OC's into Mary Sues, so I'm trying really hard to make sure she's a realistic character. Also, I'll look into that typo you mentioned - thanks for the tip! And here's your reward for the patient waiting! :D Hopefully she lives up to your standards, but if she doesn't, make sure to tell me what could be better - I still have to do edits, after all, so get your two cents in!**

**-Ice Maiden Olivier: Welcome to the story! I hope you continue to enjoy the ride. :)**

**-Palindrome Pen: First of all, your pen name is pretty kick-ass. Also, glad you like my writing. **

**-Dotdodot: Obviously, your input is heeded. :) Thanks for the cool title! I'm just indecisive by nature. **

**And thus, enjoy the chapter! It's a long one. **

* * *

Lan Fan launched herself silently from column to column along the palace halls, staying high and watching below with sharp eyes. The sun was only just beginning to rise, and the servants had not had time to light all of the extensive hallways – she had to rely on her own senses now to catch her quarry.

Such quarry as this _was, _after all, the most aggravating kind, in her humble opinion.

The girl paused on the decorative edge of a column to catch her breath and adjust her mask. She had barely had time to secure it before she had rushed off in a panic.

That morning, Lan Fan had risen before the sun to take on the guard duty of the Young Lord, relieving the supplementary guard of his shift early. She knew she wasn't getting enough rest, and she knew that the palace guards were quite adept at what they did… but the simple fact was that sleep would not come unless she knew he was safe. After all they had been through, she would not - _could _not - trust anyone else with this specific charge. As it turned out, this was a mistrust that was not entirely unwarranted.

When Lan Fan had changed the guard, she had been immediately aware that something was off. It was only after the previous guard had walked away and she had opened her master's door to check on him that she realized – neither he nor his _qi_ was present. In his place on the grandiose bed was a palace dog. In her sleep deprived state of mind, she had not noticed the difference in _qi _beyond the feeling that something was out of place, like an off-center arrowhead among a row of perfect shafts. She was getting sloppy, and she knew it - she could almost hear Grandfather's lecture now. If he had been here, however, there would have been no need to accumulate such a lack of sleep, as she could rest comfortable in the knowledge that the boy she had sworn her life to was in capable hands.

The palace guards, while competent with everyday duties, obviously had not been sharpened to the point that they could catch the master at his tricks. Sly prince or no, the guard before her should not have missed such an obvious change in the _absence _of the _next Emperor._

_I cannot believe_ _I lost him _again. _Grandfather would be furious. It isn't even daybreak yet!_

Tying a tight knot in the cord that held her mask in place, Lan Fan darted off again, scanning below with determination. Her senses were on an ultimate high, searching the area for his familiar presence. She fought off the unnecessary hysteria and paranoia that threatened to cloud her mind, the memories from her dream hovering just at the edge of her consciousness. The simple fact that she knew she was the only one who could handle the young prince was not the only thing that had kept her from finding sleep. The young lord may not have been worried about his mortality, but it was, quite literally, the concept that kept her up at night. More and more often lately she would close her eyes and be pummeled with visions of blood, pain, torture, and sacrifice - but none of it was ever directed at her. _Ever. _And it killed her every time. Sleep was now an insidious seductress instead of a comforting respite.

Ever since their return to Xing with the stone, Lan Fan had been aware of a subtle tension among the townspeople whenever she visited. It was not as prominent in the palace, which was probably why Ling said she was paranoid when she told him about it. But she always had the creeping worry that someone - rather, someone who was truly a threat - would try and test the idea of an Immortal Prince, and prove that her master was just as mortal as herself.

Of course, there had been assassination attempts as there had always been. She had always been fully capable of handling the clumsily thrown knife or weak poisoned arrow without problem. These were not what bothered her. Rather, what bothered her was that these were the _only _attacks. It shocked and discomforted her that they had not been targeted more. He was the soon to be Emperor in a country of men who were willing to cut the throats of their brothers in order to obtain power. What was stopping them from being so aggressive with her master?

Her now familiar train of thought stopped abruptly, and so did her body, freezing along the wall as if she ahd been turned to stone. Just as Lan Fan was crossing over a servant's exit to the palace garden, she felt it. It was faint, but was definitely _there, _and made her change direction faster than Winry at an automail convention.

_Found you! _

In an instant Lan Fan was out the serving door and on high alert for the prince's presence. She did not allow herself to be distracted by the brisk, dusky morning air that snaked itself under her tunic, only concentrating on pin-pointing –

_There._

With all the silence of the waning night, Lan Fan darted unseen into the garden trees. Leaping from branch to branch, she found herself on the far side of the Palace garden, where the lush flowers were separated from the main entrance of the Palace by artistic hedges and winding stone walkways. She rested in her branch and latched her eyes on the only other solitary figure present.

Her young master was facing away from her, watching as the pre-dawn sky grew lighter and lighter as the sun began its journey into the new day. She was not really close enough to feel the emotions of his _qi _– she did not want _him _to sense _her_ after all – but she got the feeling he was not there to watch the sun rise. Usually when he did that, he located to the roof.

Looking again in the direction he was facing, Lan Fan squinted to see anything out of the ordinary. As far as she could see there was nothing that could -

The echoing _clip-clop _of hooves on pavement and the rattling sound of a carriage preceded the procession that was to come. Lan Fan looked with curiosity as a topless carriage made its way to the palace doors. Peering closer, the warrior blinked in surprise. Inside the carriage were four women, sitting in pairs opposite of each other. The two that Lan Fan could see were obviously of royal blood, and the other two must have been maids. By the deep colorful glow and sheen of her traveling dress, Lan Fan could conclude that one was a Lady, and the younger one apparently her daughter.

The younger girl was… beautiful, to say the least. Her hair shone luxuriously, hinting at the expense that had been spent to keep it in such glorious condition. Fair skin was so flawless that Lan Fan knew instinctively that, even in close proximity, no blemish would be found. The crest on the second carriage, used for luggage and additional servants, was familiar to her but she found that she could not place the name immediately. The fact that Lan Fan did not know the nobles immediately meant that they did not have intimate relations with the Emperor, which also meant that they had probably never been to a palace of half so much splendor. Lan Fan, on the other hand, had learned that a palace was simply a larger place for enemies to lurk in the shadows.

The carriage continued until it reached the palace attendants who escorted the young girl and her mother inside while stable boys unharnessed the horses to take them to the palace stable. It was then that Ling stood and began to walk towards the servant door. Darting silently from his path so that he would not be able to sense her, Lan Fan followed him back inside at a distance.

With a stab of realization, it registered that he had been waiting for that girl and her family to arrive. They must be important in some way, especially since Ling had dragged himself from his much-coveted sleep in order to witness the arrival. Lan Fan raided her memory, but could not recall him mentioning anyone special coming to the palace. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Surely, as his primary bodyguard, it was of utmost importance that she knew any information about his affairs. Yet, she knew better than anyone that Ling was good at keeping things to himself, despite his happy-go-lucky attitude at times. She also knew that he had his right to his own secrets. She was neither his mother, nor was she a stand-in for Grandfather Fu – she really had no right to demand everything from him. And she didn't wish to, honestly… but the possibility that something important was going on while she was in the dark unnerved her. How could she protect her master when she wasn't aware of danger?

This girl… obviously she, or someone in her family, was special.

It could be a ploy, of course. Assassins could be ever-so creative in the least expected ways. Maybe the beautiful girl was acting as a diversion, drawing the young master's attention away from more pressing things so that he would be vulnerable to an attack. Or maybe the girl was the assassin herself. Lan Fan felt an odd feeling fester in her chest, and she knew in the back of her mind that none of these things were likely. There were so many simpler and more efficient ways to sneak up on the young prince. If the young woman had been added as a servant to the future Emperor's retinue, then she would have been truly suspicious, but she knew from the splendor of their traveling habits that this could not be the case. She really just wanted an excuse to be on guard of this new courtesan, this beauty that her Young Lord had woken before the sun to see into the palace. Lan Fan wished she could see the Young Lord's expression for a moment, but could not really understand why.

It was preposterous. Why would she possibly _want _to find an enemy in this girl? It was dangerous and against all of Grandfather's teachings. It was never wise to judge an opponent or stranger without knowing the history, and Lan Fan did not even know this girl's family name, much less if she was a threat to the throne. So why was it so surprisingly hard not to instinctively dislike this apparent innocent? Why did she feel like she had just had her feet swiped from under her, like she had been… betrayed? Threatened? With a begrudging sigh, she vowed to meditate when she was back on her post. Lack of sleep seemed to be fogging her mind with paranoia and an odd tangle of difficultly controlled emotion, and it could not bode well for her awareness on guard.

"Is something troubling you, Lan Fan?"

Lan Fan started with a gasp and nearly fell off of her perch on one of the palace pillars. Looking down, she saw the Young Lord looking up at her casually, hands on hips and a light half-grin on his face. Lan Fan flushed with a mixture of feelings, the foremost one being embarrassment. She felt like kicking herself. 'Could not bode well for her awareness on guard' indeed – she had not slipped up like that in ages.

Grandfather had always said her mind and imagination often drove her to distraction. As she had been countless times before, Lan Fan was intensely grateful for the full-face mask, hiding her sheepish reaction.

Knowing it was pointless to stay hidden, the young warrior leaped from her spot to land lightly in a crouch by Ling, head bowed.

"My apologies, Young Lord. You were not in your room," she added with a hint of accusation. She _knew_ that he knew she hated it when he snuck off without telling her. It never stopped him from doing it, but that certainly did not mean she couldn't give him what for… in her own way, of course.

Her ire was both soothed and aggravated at the care-free chuckle from the boy - man? - before her.

"Come on, Lan Fan, you can stand up," he paused as she did so before continuing. "And sorry for making you worry… I just had the urge to visit the gardens as the sun rose. I hadn't expected you to take over your shift until a few hours from now."

Lan Fan nodded, quietly analyzing his statement as she was wont to do. His omission about the arrival to the palace should have soothed her, but it did not. A part of her wanted to believe that there was nothing more to it, nothing to be suspicious about at all. The arrival of the girl was pure coincidence.

The larger part of her, the part that had been trained by Grandfather since she was five, bristled. The Young Lord was keeping something from her, and she did not like it. With or without this inexplicable distrust of the beautiful girl in the carriage, she would never like the Young Lord keeping information from her.

For now she would play along, because he was her master and she had nothing but an odd sense of foreboding to go by. Instead, she simply said what she knew he was expecting, not letting him know that she knew the truth. There was a good chance that he was not sure when she had shown up, considering how careful she had been when she found him.

"You should not go off on your own like that, Young Lord," she reprimanded. "Especially when someone _else_ is guarding you." In the end, the disapproval crept into her tone despite herself at the indirection mention of the palace guards. She knew most of them personally and knew that they all meant well. But this morning had just been ridiculous.

Ling grinned cheekily and began walking down the hall.

_To the kitchens, no doubt, _Lan Fan predicted dryly.

"You just need to lighten up, Lan Fan," he replied, stretching his hands up to lock behind his head as he walked. Lan Fan could not help a smile at the confident pose. It was something he had picked up in Amestris. It truly suited him.

"And besides," the young man added with a sideways glance. "I wouldn't get anywhere if I tried sneaking off on _your_ watch. These other palace guards are good, but they aren't you."

_True._Perhaps it should have bothered her that she was so aware of the gap in proficiency between her and the palace guards, but it did not. She wondered if Grandfather would have lectured her on being conceited. After all, what else could be concluded when comparing her results to theirs? The simple fact was that she had invested her entire _life _into what she did, while many of the guards had other lives - families to go home to after their shift. This life _was_ her home and family, her past, present, and future... and there was nothing she would do to change that. Hearing her master acknowledge this made her feel light and confident.

Lan Fan did not know whether to be pleased or annoyed at this fact, so she stayed silent and walked quietly beside him. The sensation of walking abreast with him had been odd at first, as if they were equals, but now it was natural and set her nerves at ease. As accustomed as she was to staying close to shadows, when they had returned from Amestris Ling had insisted that she not trail him from a distance anymore. He simply said that she was no longer a mere bodyguard but a friend, and had joked that no friend stalks another like a jailor attending to a captive. Lan Fan had not particularly approved at first, thinking that the Young Lord was undermining his importance again, but she knew in her heart that things were different now. They couldn't _not _be after everything that had happened - the life, death, and sacrifice. Needless to say, it was a good change amid the aftermath.

However, that didn't stop her current worries from tainting her thoughts with edginess and suspicion. She worried the inside of her check behind the mask, knowing that it was improper to question him outright, but wanting nothing more than to appease this itch. She had to get answers. They were almost to the kitchens, where there would be other servants around and it really _would_ be improper to interrogate her charge. Squeezing her normal hand a little in an effort to boost her courage, she drew in a breath to speak.

"Lan Fan, I have some business to take care of. If you just stay outside, I promise to keep within your _qi_-sensing range," Ling said casually. Lan Fan made an odd choking sound as she hastily bit back the question that had just been on her lips. She almost blushed when Ling gave her a look, but she only nodded jerkily. Her fisted hand relaxed in defeat; she had missed her chance. It was probably for the best anyway. What would he think of such a foolish question? _Young Lord, pardon me, but what was the importance of the Lady's arrival this morning? _It sounded ludicrous and pushy even in her head. The Young Lord nodded back at her and disappeared behind the kitchen doors. Lan Fan let out a breath she had not realized she'd been holding, and walked over to lean on a nearby wall, thinking.

It was awfully early in the morning for 'business'. Then again, the Young Lord was infamous for his distaste of such affairs. It was not unreasonable to assume that whatever it was, he just wanted it done as soon as possible. Her master was not exactly patient. Besides, he said he would stay within her range, so she basically had permission to come after him if he went outside of it.

Lan Fan let out a huff of air and slouched against the wall, running over their conversation in her mind. It was only then that she realized where they were, and what he had said he was doing.

_But… what could be so important in the _kitchens_?_

Lan Fan eyed the kitchen doors now with more curiosity than anything. Had the Young Lord been able to convince the Councilmen to hold their meetings in a place that was more agreeable with him? The thought made Lan Fan laugh a little in disbelief as she formed a comical picture of all these old, self-important Councilmen looking wise and serious gathered around a cramped table in the kitchen as her master ate to his heart's content. She shook her head to clear the image from her mind, but it had done its job in taking some of the tension from her shoulders. _The kitchens. _What next?

It was then that her wandering gaze came to rest on a small white square of paper that she did not remember seeing there before. She tilted her head in curiosity, wondering how long it had been there. This hallway would not have been used by many other people at this time in the morning, and it had not been there when they had first entered this hall. Lan Fan moved to a crouch, picking up the piece of paper that the Young Lord must have dropped. It was stiff and glossy, she realized: a photograph. She paused before flipping it over, knowing that she could be encroaching on her ward's privacy right now. The right thing to do would probably be to invade the kitchen and return it to him…

… But then, he _had _said he was doing business. She wouldn't want to interrupt him in one of his rare serious moods.

Turning the slip over, she studied the image, only to breath in surprise behind her mask and clench the photograph in disbelief. Without a doubt, it was a picture of the girl she had seen earlier. It had been taken much closer up than Lan Fan had seen her before, and her features were much clearer than they had been in the thin light of dawn, but the gentle beauty and charisma was unmistakable. The photograph made her even lovelier an image, captured in a summer setting and dressed in beautiful silks instead of the humbler traveling robes. Lan Fan could neither suppress nor explain the foreign feelings inside her that constricted her chest uncomfortably when she thought of her master carrying this picture around with him.

Who _was _this girl? Why had she not seen or heard of her before now? Was she really slipping so much that she was utterly unaware of a new… _relationship_ forming in her master's life?

Lan Fan swallowed hard when she realized that her mouth had become strangely dry, and her hand trembled a little as she tucked the photo into a sash of her uniform. Her desire to meditate and cleanse these alien feelings out of her mind increased tenfold.

She was, however, distracted when she sensed two _qi _approaching from beyond a corner to her right. Not wanting to attract attention in her current state, she darted quickly out of sight, climbing swiftly up the palace columns once more. Once secure, she breathed deeply, blending her _qi _with the energy flow of her surroundings and quieting her emotions as much as possible. It was a technique that Grandfather had been experimenting with called _qi yanbi, _or _qi _cloaking. A lizard takes on the color of its surroundings to avoid being detected, and he had reckoned that the same could be done with _qi. _If she could master it, it would be an invaluable tool in the life of a bodyguard, and so far it had served her well. She just was not sure how long she could keep it up.

Still camouflaging her _qi_, Lan Fan listened to the voices of two men as they approached. Her interest in their conversation was piqued as she caught snatches.

" – just arrived… should begin… soon... possible…"

"What… doing again…"

"…right, you were not present. Well –"

The conversation became clearer as the men rounded the corner, coming into Lan Fan's sights. She recognized them as two Councilmen, and even knew the older one as a kind man named Cheng. Cheng was speaking to a much younger man, recently established in the Council.

"The girl who just arrived is Lady Bilan Xu, a niece to the Old Emperor's wife of the Xu clan," Cheng was explaining. Lan Fan was not very sentimental, but at that moment she felt that she could have given the old man a very heartfelt hug. It seemed that she would get some answers after all.

"The name doesn't sound familiar," the younger man replied. Cheng chuckled at his companion's confusion.

"That's because she refrains from getting involved with the court politics as much as possible. She has instead spent most of her life dedicated to helping the fifty clans in their respective times of need, dealing with the much more intricate politics of inter-clan relationships."

"Then why is she here?"

"I told you, she is the prime solution to Prince Ling's problem. With the Young Lord's declaration to unite the clans into one, the nation has been experiencing feuds and troubles that, without the correct measures, may eventually turn into something much serious," Cheng said grimly.

"You mean… civil war?"

Lan Fan felt cold at the suggestion, and even more so when Cheng nodded. A civil war would be disastrous.

Suddenly, everything made sense. This could be one reason that the aggression towards the young prince himself was so relaxed - the tensions were not towards the throne, necessarily. Instead, they were placed within the clans, cracking Xing from the inside-out like delicate porcelain. She could not imagine the chaos in the streets, not to mention the attempts at the Young Lord's life, if such civil war broke the boundaries of strained tensions into unfettered rivalry. If his existence was in danger when the country was at _peace, _just how close would he come to death when it was openly warring against itself?

"The Council decided to find a match that would ease the nerves of the nation and please the public. We found Bilan," Cheng continued.

"So you mean – "

"Yes, this banquet that we are arranging is going to be held for the chief purpose of both initiating Lady Bilan into the Emperor's Court and also getting the Young Lord acquainted with her. With any luck, the two will hit it off and the Council will have them wedded before the end of the season."

Lan Fan breath caught in her throat and she lost her concentration for a second, camouflage slipping. Almost immediately she regained composure, but not quite quickly enough.

Cheng turned and looked unnervingly close to her hiding spot. Lan Fan made sure to keep her emotions in check, even though her heart was beating a little faster now.

"Did you just feel something?"

The younger man shrugged, resuming his toward the kitchen doors. "No, I didn't. So the palace is holding a three-day feast just so that the prince can decide whether or not he wants to marry a beautiful, charitable young girl? Seems like a waste of food to me."

The older man sighed and caught up with the younger man.

"The feast is also as a means of celebrating the Old Emeperor's continued leadership of the country, as well welcoming the arrival of a new generation. This kind of preemptive celebration always precedes the official ceremony that occurs when a New Emperor takes the throne. Not only Bilan and the Xu clan will be present, but the most important representatives and courtiers from the other clans as well, will be there." Cheng was pensive for a moment before he sighed. "Besides, the boy is going to take the weight of a nation on his shoulders soon. The time for making decisions for himself is dwindling. The young prince understands this, but before his freedom is chained to his people, he deserves this choice if no other. If there is anything I have learned about the Young Lord, it's that his decisions can be surprising to others, but make perfect sense to his own agenda. He may be young, but he knows what he wants." The older Councilmen gave a last inquiring glance over his shoulder, making Lan Fan fight the urge to fidget.

The younger man, oblivious, laughed and bumped his mentor good naturedly. "Ah, Cheng, you are too serious. We will have to make sure the banquet is supplied with plenty of drink, yes?"

Cheng turned his undivided attention back to his friend and laughed dryly. "Yes, and I'm sure I am not the only one who will be in need of it. In fact, something tells me the young prince himself if already waiting for us, pacing tracks into the kitchen floor."

In another moment, the two had crossed into the kitchen, leaving Lan Fan to drop her camouflage and slide wearily down the marble column.

Her heart was beating loudly against her chest, and she was struggling to breath. Part of it she knew was probably from the exertion of keeping up the _qi yanbi_, since she had never done so before for nearly as long, or under such straining circumstances. Something, however, told her that there was more to it. She was definitely and inexplicably bothered by this gleaned information about the true affairs in her master's life. _How long had he been keeping this from her? And how, exactly, had she not known about this grand feast before just now?_

Lan Fan knew this was absurd. It was not her master's job or responsibility to tell her everything in his life. All she was supposed to do was protect him. That was her only job. Lan Fan felt frustration boil in her throat when she realized how _hard _it was to remember that when the young lord was constantly trying to make her feel his equal. They were _not _equals, she knew that - it was one of the cardinal lessons Grandfather had pressed on her, but dammit, how was she supposed to remember that when the young master never stopped telling her to 'be more relaxed' and 'always share her opinion'?

Bracing herself against the column, still tucked in the shadows, Lan Fan found her gaze lingering on her automail arm for the first time that day. The torchlight glimmered off of the well-kept steel, lending it a warmth that did not exist on its own. Her eyes trailed from the studded knuckles up the forearm and to the blade that extended from her elbow. The deadly weapon was a good foot in length, sharpened to a lethal point and fit for battle.

Unbidden, the image of Bilan Xu's dainty white hands holding a garden rose appeared in her mind's eye, painfully vivid. Her flesh was smooth and unmarred, never knowing the trials that Lan Fan had faced. For the first time in Lan Fan's young but eventful life, she felt insecurity and regret at her destiny. Not for the first time she mourned the loss of her arm, but now for a completely different reason.

Who would ever want to embrace a girl who was also a living weapon?

Lan Fan shook the thought from her mind forcefully, stubbornly ignoring the damp pressure behind her eyes and the knot in her throat. It was not her place to be embraced, she did not _need _anything more complicated than comradeship. Her only duty in life was to protect him, and she was more than willing to do so. She would protect him until her last breath, and she would also protect his sons and daughters. She had simply never thought of where those sons and daughters would come from, but now it seemed glaring obvious that her protection would have to be extended to whoever her master's Empress would be. So be it.

Nevertheless, she felt a new restlessness coiled within her, and she recognized the feeling from when she had been training to become Ling's bodyguard in the first place, when she had been so young, green, and untried. It was the need to prove herself, to surpass her limits, to commit herself to her fate and leave everything else behind.

Eyeing the kitchen doors thoughtfully, she considered her options. The sun had risen by now, surely, though she was not sure of what time it was. It had been an hour or two at the very least since she had discovered the Young Lord's bed occupied by only a palace dog, which put her around seven o'clock in the morning. No one would be training on the training grounds at this time, since they were usually either busy working shifts, shopping in the town, or taking advantage of the early hour to train in the quiet of the nearby wooded area. Later in the day was when the animals started to rouse and villagers came to picnic or hunt. Going to the palace's training grounds would blow off some steam, but she had the Young Lord to look after…

… but if she was right about the time, then she still had an hour before her actual shift started. If she could find a free bodyguard, surely she could leave her problematic ward in good hands. He was with two Councilmen in the palace kitchens, for heaven's sake. If he got into trouble there, then there was no help for him and she was going to have to learn to live without sleeping.

Decision made, Lan Fan darted off as quickly as she could to the palace barracks. It was not a long distance, but she took a shortcut through the courtyard, and the outdoors did good to freshen her mind. The sun was warming the stone pavements at its leisure and the air was still fresh from the dawn. In a few minutes she arrived at the familiar, crude wooden door of the barracks, worn down from generations of having weapons scarring its threshold.

Pushing through without a second thought, the girl quickly scanned the room for the person she was looking for. There she found Makanay, a veteran of bodyguards who had transferred from the service of a reputedly reckless General from a country west of Amestris. Makanay was a foreigner who was hard to describe by Xingese terms. Her hair was copper colored and she wore an eye patch, drawing unwanted attention which could be a disadvantage in her profession. However, she carried herself with the demeanor of one comfortable with the art of combat, and she did not disappoint. Makanay was about five years older than Lan Fan, and she had given the girl much sound advice in the few years she had been stationed at the palace – advice that was both martial and not. She tended to speak only when needed, and had a dry humor that reminded her of Grandfather at times. Most of all, Makanay had Sight. Despite the fact that she could not sense _qi _and was missing an eye, Lan Fan had not heard of one assassin yet – however well trained – who could sneak past Makanay's defenses. She was highly perceptive, so much so that sometimes it seemed like she could predict the future. Lan Fan had seen her in action, and this was the reason why she thought that the foreigner was the only person she could trust with the Young Lord.

Aside from her unique fighting skills, Makanay brought many ideas that hinted at the strange culture she had come from. One of these strange ideas was the 'game' in which she was currently involved – something she called 'arm wrestling'.

Lan Fan watched, torn between amusement and discomfort, as the foreign warrior grimaced at her opponent over a tortured wooden table, glaring with her single eye. The man who had decided to test his strength against one of the palace's most formidable fighters was a relatively new recruit, reputedly come from the private troops of the distinguished Fa clan. He looked strong, but his eyes held the unmistakable wide glint of a man who feared defeat. Lan Fan knew he would not last.

The sounds of competitive cheers and bet-takers rolled throughout the room in waves as the linked fists of the two adversaries wavered inches by inches. Lan Fan could tell in a glance that Makanay was not using all of her strength, and was instead sizing her opponent up while letting the cat-calling spectators enjoy a drawn out match. While the young man probably was not using his full force either, his uncertainty in the face of such a self-certain woman seemed to make him panic, which in turn allowed Makanay to gain leeway. Sweat was rolling down his forehead as the green-eyed girl smirked, gaze unwavering and unsettling. His chest started heaving as their hands slowly struggled into Makanay's favor. The shouts of the crowd that had assembled roared louder as his loosing fist crawled closer to the table's surface. Five inches… now four… now three…

The man let out a frustrated growl, and all of the sudden Makanay's progress stopped. Both arms shook, and finally the older woman's smirk disappeared. Caught in a stalemate, the man began to regain some confidence, grinning as if he had already won. Makanay returned the look by narrowing her eyes icily and frowning. The man seemed to realize his mistake a second before it became reality.

In a second flat the woman brought down his fist so hard on the table that the sound echoed sharply amid the din of the rowdy room, the wood splintering. The soldier let out a cry of shock and pain, and the room exploded with crows of delight, clinking coins, and the moans of men who had just lost a wage or two. Makanay sprang happily from her seat, looking refreshed. Lan Fan was not surprised when the victorious woman sauntered her way over to her spot in the shadowy threshold. Knowing her, the foreigner had probably known that Lan Fan wanted to talk to her the moment she walked in.

"Lan Fan!" the woman greeted warmly. She clasped Lan Fan's flesh forearm in her country's form of greeting. "It's good to see you… though I was almost certain you were watching your prince like the hawk you are?" She added with a raised brow.

Lan Fan nodded, not surprised that Makanay saw right through her. She cut straight to the point.

"I would not normally ask something like this, Makanay, but…" Lan Fan drew a breath, steadying herself to ask what she had never asked before. "… can you take over my shift to guard the Young Lord?" She finished in a hushed voice.

If the other woman was surprised that Lan Fan was giving her charge of the master she so fiercely protected, she did not show it. She just put her hand to her chin and nodded, as if thinking to herself.

"Well, I promised myself I wouldn't get involved with any affairs between a noble and a guard-" she cast a furtive look at Lan Fan, who grew warm for no reason at all and looked away. "-but you do like you could use a break." Makanay finished with a knowing smile. "When will you be back?"

Lan Fan sighed gratefully, gratitude stronger than she had expected. "I just want to train for a few hours or so. It shouldn't be too long."

The red-haired warrior shrugged and smirked. "Do whatever you need to do. Where can I find the prince?"

"He's in the kitchens right now, attending to…" Lan Fan shifted a bit, recalling what he and his Councilmen were discussing at this very moment. "… business. He did not wish to be disturbed."

Makanay straightened her spine a little and nodded, a soldier with an assignment. "Understood. I'll head there immediately."

She began walking past Lan Fan to do just that, placing a familiar hand on the girl's automail shoulder as she did. "Take care of yourself, Lan Fan. You seem troubled."

Lan Fan nodded and looked down until Makanay was gone. When she realized that she was standing in the doorway alone once more, she sighed in relief. She felt like she could breathe easier now, distanced from her ever-pressing responsibility and able to do what she wanted. She felt the roiling unease of the morning's previous events resurface, and now felt confident that she could do something about it.

Not wanting to waste another second of the time she had bought herself, she left and arrived at her destination quickly, wanting to get rid of as much pent-up energy as possible. She wanted to lose herself in training and not think about arranged marriages, or future babies to protect, or pretty girls with two flesh arms… she did not want to _think_. Lan Fan spent a lot of time thinking, and analyzing, and endlessly worrying over her young master. For the first time in a very long time… she wanted to stop. She wanted to be… well, she didn't know what she wanted to be. That was the problem. It was a frustrating insecurity that she did not like and certainly did not think she could afford.

Lan Fan's hands tightened into fists, her automail making metallic clinks as she entered the indoor training ground, dotted through with training equipment and practice dummies. Securing her mask to hide her identity and expression from imaginary opponents, she assessed the battered obstacle course that had served her so well in the past. She had the feeling that it was going to look much worse when she was done. Unbidden, her self-doubts came re-surging from within her, making her stop her progress as if caught in a web. She teetered on the edge of indecision.

_I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't have left the Young Lord. I should at least meditate before I do this, it's just rash not to, and I was meaning to meditate anyway, so – _

_THUD, _recoil. Lan Fan stared in a split second of shock at the rocking combat dummy, then stared at her own fist in surprise. She had struck out without even thinking about it. It was almost like her body was telling her to stop thinking and fight.

Taking in a calming breath, Lan Fan closed her eyes. As she let it back out, her fists relaxed but her resolve hardened.

_I am going to do this. I am going to forget about my duties, and my worries, and my feelings. There is nothing here to stop me, so I refuse to stop myself. _

"He can take care of himself," she muttered aloud to her feet. "I am no use to him if _I_ cannot take care of _myself_ as well."

With another breath, she silenced her thoughts. When her eyes opened, she unleashed the pent-up power the likes of which her imaginary opponents had never seen before.

She fought Wrath, Gluttony, and Envy all at once, with a thousand possessed soldiers to boot. Slashing with her automail blade she decapitated three here, gutted five there, always keeping her momentum to her advantage. Her practice stances were strong and fluid, the kind that center concentration and rely on focus. Switching tactics, she used the techniques she had picked up in Amestris and roundhouse kicked, dropped, swept the feet of her enemies, backflipped and cracked a few skulls on the way there. Punch to the solar plexus, upper-cut to the jaw street-fight style, dodge and kick, evade and strike, render the opponent unstable.

From above her the shadows of darting arrows flew like minnows in the water, and she made her body light as air as she danced in between them with the confidence of an old lover. The men she came into contact with along the way only served as annoyances or human body shields. She turned their hatred against them. In comparison she was calm, empty, and clear for the first time that day - she used one enemy's attacks to render another useless, turning them against each other even as they poured forth intricate punches to her. Block, evade, duck, roll. Punch to the throat, elbow to the spine, palm to the nose, kick to the knee.

Before long, she was only fighting homunculi.

The challenge was one she rose to with deadly calm. Her body folded to find its fighting stance with hard precision. Her chest burned a bit to appreciate the strain, but otherwise, she was only getting started.

Gluttony was first, charging with the stupid rage that made him such an easy and fearsome foe at once. She dodged him easily, reaching right into his fat, canvas face and tearing out his tongue. Before he had a chance to regenerate, she hooked her hands under his jaw and launched him over her head. He landed face-down, red electricity crackling all over his glutinous body. Seeing her chance, she jumped high in the air, using as much momentum as possible as she landed with the heels of her feet directly on the weakest point of his spinal cord, cracking the supportive length of wood clean in two. He roared in pain as regenerative energy struggled to keep up. Rebounding off of his back, she kicked his paralyzed body over so that his stomach was bore before her. Quick as lightning, her metal arm plunged into his cloth-stuffed stomach, tore out the philosopher's stone, and shattered it in her metallic clutch.

Gluttony evaporated in black ash, leaving behind only a torn and tattered combat dummy.

Envy was next, striking out at her with low-blows and cheap shots that only Envy would make. She dodged as best she could, blocking when she had to, calculating her speed and strength to the best of her advantage. The immortal sins' trademark sadistic grin was starting to spread across his face, and Lan Fan immediately put up her guard. Envy, as the most deceptive homunculus, used his powers to disarm his opponents by getting under their skin.

"Why so reserved, foreigner? You're even more weak than the last time I fought you."

Ignoring the comment, Lan Fan caught a low punch from her opponent in her automail hand. The warrior made sure to look directly into the surprised homunculus' eyes as she crushed his hand in her metallic grip. She jumped back as read lightning slithered around his crushed bones and he screamed as he cradled his hand.

"You're going to pay for that, Xingese witch." Envy spat. He clenched his previously injured hand, making a pointed show of the bones as they cracked and realigned of their own accord. His malicious smile was back. "You couldn't even protect your prince, _or_ your Grandfather. What makes you think you can protect yourself?"

With an evasive flip she did a momentary hand-stand on the homunculus's head, grasping at his green-black hair and tearing it out when she came down to land. Envy shrieked in pain and clutched at his head. While the vain sin was distracted she punched his wooden ribs until she felt them crack beneath her bloodied flesh hand. She jumped back as he whirled around in a blind rage, blocking his attack and cracking his wrist with her stronger automail hand. Screaming his agony, he tried to retreat then, but she used her speed to flash in front of him. Squaring both hands in front of her body and rooting herself to the spot he stood on, she used all the force of her body to push at his chest with her palms, sending his oddly weighted body rocketing to the other end of the room. Leaping quickly across the distance, she crouched beside his prone figure, one knee pinning his stitched chest to the ground.

With a growl of victory she reached into his throat and tore his philosopher's stone out, leaving the second homunculus to join the first in defeat.

Lan Fan was panting, but she still had plenty of energy left. Her mask was practically glued to her face from sweat, but it kept the salty water out of her eyes so that she could see clearly. She was not done. There was one last rival to be defeated.

Wrath charged her from behind, human eye flashing with his namesake sin. Her eyes narrowed in cold blood as she dodged. She was going to make this battle last, and she was going to make sure he knew it.

She let out a battle cry as she tactfully struck Wrath's deadly blade from his hand with a kunai to the wrist. With a hand to the ground, she kicked high at his jaw, whirling around on her automail hand and kicking his feet from under him. With the automail arm that she had obtained because of him, she took his wrist and spun him in a full circle before letting him loose. He crashed harmlessly into a set of punching bags, rallying his center and assuming attack position. With his sword out of the way, the quick-witted military man was forced to use hand-to-hand combat, as was Lan Fan after the use of her kunai. With the advantages of his inhuman speed and skill, and the advantages of her automail arm, they were just about fairly matched.

Wrath punched low and powerful, taking no time to counter when Lan Fan dodged. He kept moving, never letting himself settle into any one position, looking for a weak spot in her defense. Lan Fan gritted her teeth, refusing to allow herself to be fought into a corner.

She would win this time, and she would reclaim her worth as a warrior.

Hopping tightly over his extended leg, she skirted into his blind spot to position herself behind his left shoulder. When he responded by pivoting his torso and aiming his elbow at her ribs, she grabbed his upper arm and dug her automail arm into it, feeling the crack of the wooden bone vibrate up in her own body. Tight as a coil she vaulted herself to grasp a low wooden beam, an obstacle feature in the training room, and hooked her feet under his thick, unfeeling arms. With a single swing backwards for momentum, she swung them both around in a full circle, slamming him to the ground with her knees digging into his shoulder blades. A cloud of chalk and dust plumed over the dummy, and Wrath's hard muscles rippled in the effort to stand and throw her off. She felt a rush under her skin, reveling the feeling of being in _control_ for once, before Lan Fan somersaulted away to crouch and wait for the next attack. She felt so natural in this form - so she did not fight it. She just let herself _be. _

She was not left waiting for long.

The older man tensed and sprang backwards, landing on his feet and turning to face her with death written on his features. There was a moment of stillness as the two contenders assessed each other.

Suddenly, Wrath snarled. "Why try, girl? You are no different than you were then: defenseless baggage for your sacred prince. You are powerless."

Lan Fan gritted her teeth and felt her lips curl with cold hate. Blood pulsing with adrenaline, Lan Fan made the first strike, lashing out with a fist to strike his core. Wrath took the blow with a grunt but wasted no time in swatting her arm away from her body and smacking her own diaphragm. The air was forced from Lan Fan's lungs and doubled over, but she would _not _be caught.

She was different, she realized suddenly. She _was _different, and Wrath was wrong.

She used the position to her advantage and delivered a full-force double punch to the kidneys. The old man barked out a hoarse sound of pain and buckled. His eyes flashed like those of a caged tiger, but Lan Fan caught his elbow before it had a chance to strike her in her exposed position and punched upward into the bone, fracturing the wood in the same place she had on the other arm.

She was stronger now, more ruthless, because should _could not afford _anything less. Grandfather was gone, and her master's life was _hers _to protect, and she _would not fail_. She existed in this form as a shield, and a shield which ceased to protect would simply cease to _be. _

Lan Fan's bladed automail elbow came crashing down on the junction of his neck and shoulder, creating a deep stab wound and broken bones in one attack. Ripping out her bladed arm, she threw a right-hook to his jaw before he even had a chance to respond. Blood splattered from his mouth and dribbled down his chin. A calculatedly forceful blow to his stomach in an area she knew he should already have fractured or broken ribs in caused him to double over, and she flipped over him to wrench his arm behind his back and dislocate his shoulder.

The mighty homunculus made a gurgling sound as he toppled over at her feet, no longer moving. In a final move of victory, she took his head and wrenched his neck in a unnatural angle, twisting the wooden beam inside. The hateful gleam in Wrath's eyes faded, and she felt some kind of bitter emotion encroach upon her moment of _being _as she contemplate the past.

Lan Fan stood stock still, breathing heavily as the rush of her blood began to calm and her knuckles began to scab. With one last look at the defeated body of the man-made-homunculus, she closed her eyes and forced her body to relax. With a deep, cleansing breath her hands came up from her sides to form the symbol of calmness, restoring her center of mind and body. When she opened her eyes, the body of Wrath was gone, leaving behind a simple and unthreatening canvas dummy. Lan Fan felt a tired smile tug at her lips. Grandfather had always said she had an overactive imagination.

The sound of clapping from behind her made Lan Fan turn in surprise. She was already prepared to offer an apology to whatever bodyguard had come to see the training ground in such disarray when she saw who her visitor really was. Unmistakably, it was Lady Bilan Xu standing inside the doorway of the training room, looking more lovely up close than Lan Fan had been prepared for.

The girl misunderstood Lan Fan's stunned silence for a stony one, probably because of her mask that hid any reaction.

"I apologize for interrupting you," she said humbly, a sheepish smile on her lips. "I just arrived at the palace a few hours ago and have already managed to get myself lost. I was looking for a sign of any kind when I passed this room and saw you training. You are most skilled in your fighting arts. The Emperor should be proud to have such well-trained men defending him."

The lady's explanation seemed to snap Lan Fan back to her senses, and she immediately bowed in gratitude at the compliment.

"Thank you, but I am not defending the Emperor. At least, not yet," Lan Fan replied. As she straightened her hands went to untie her mask, and she revealed her face with lowered eyes. "I am the chief bodyguard of Prince Ling."

Lan Fan heard a gasp and her eyes flicked up to see that it was the other girl's turn to be shocked.

"You are a woman!"

That made Lan Fan smile, though she was not sure why. She had not been sure how to feel towards this girl, but she found that she could not be as cold and guarded as she wanted to be. Instead, she found her feet carrying her forward and her instincts leaning towards friendliness. She came to stop before the girl, and ended up extending her hand in the Amestrian form of greeting.

"Yes, I am. My name is Lan Fan. I would be happy to show you around the palace if you wish."

The girl blinked for a moment, then beamed happily, taking Lan Fan's hand in a pleasant grasp.

"I am Bilan Xu, it's good to meet you, Lan Fan. I would be eternally grateful if you guided me," she accepted. The two walked out of the training room together, side by side. Lan Fan was shocked at how natural it was to be open and friendly to this girl – she wondered if that was only one part of her charm.

"So you said you are the bodyguard of Prince Ling?" Bilan started conversationally.

Lan Fan instantly tensed, and she hesitated in her response. The reaction did not go unnoticed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I do not usually interact with people outside of business deals and family, you must forgive me if I make a social blunder. I understand if you are not allowed to talk about your charge," she babbled. "I just… I must admit, I'm curious. I have heard such rumors about Prince Ling, and how he aspires to be the best Emperor our nation has ever seen. I have never had much to say about the Emperor, seeing as he never seems to have much to say about his people." Bilan looked pensive. Lan Fan wondered if she was normally this open with strangers or if she did not have anyone else to talk to.

"I simply hope that our new Emperor will live up to his promise and help his people instead of ignoring them," Bilan finished.

"He will."

The two girls looked at each other, both surprised at the instinctive response. Lan Fan had not meant to speak, but now that she had…

Lan Fan smiled reassuringly. "You do not have to worry about the Young Lord. He will live up to his word and more. I have known him most of my life. He is as loyal to his subjects as…" the warrior trailed off, not knowing the best words to express the honor and devotion her master exhumed.

" – As his subjects are to him?" Bilan suggested softly. She was not sure why, but Lan Fan blushed and nodded. She felt that there was some double meaning to the statement, but she was not sure what it was. Silence was her only response.

Taking note, Bilan tactfully changed the subject.

"You fought so vigorously back there. How do you train so well against nothing more than stationary practice dummies?"

That made the smile return to Lan Fan's lips, and she suddenly felt wistful. "My Grandfather, who was the chief guardian of the Young Lord before me, always said that I had a vivid imagination. He taught me how to use it in practice, to push me to new levels in ways the other warriors couldn't when they were alone. In my mind, I was fighting real people, rivals from my past that proved… difficult to beat."

Bilan nodded with a look of awe on her face. "That last one you fought especially hard. Who did you imagine that one to be?"

Lan Fan's footsteps slowed, and she wondered nervously how much she should say. She decided to give a half-truth, if only because the whole truth would take far too long to tell.

"He was… the man who killed Grandfather. He's dead now, killed in battle, but he took my Grandfather with him. He was no ordinary man, and he fought with much skill. I fought him myself once, with… grave consequences." Lan Fan explained, self-consciously tucking her automail arm behind her. Her thoughts from earlier, about no one wanting her with such a body, returned to cast a shadow on her thoughts. She felt Bilan's eyes follow her motion, and heard her quiet gasp of understanding. Sneaking a nervous glance at her eyes, Lan Fan was slightly surprised to see compassion instead of horror.

"Does it… hurt?" she asked.

Lan Fan felt a strange mix of relief and gratefulness, and her lips quirked up in a soothing smile.

"Not much anymore, no. I strained it too much, too soon after I first got it, and it delayed the healing process for a while. But, as you just saw, it's fine now. It can actually be quite handy in battle."

Bilan returned the smile instantly with sincere happiness. "I'm glad. It would not do to have such a skilled warrior in pain."

Lan Fan nodded her gratitude, and the two walked in companionable silence for a while. Lan Fan was leading them to the set of corridors that were usually dedicated to guests. From there it was up to Bilan to find her room. She meant to leave it at that, but she found that as their journey came closer and closer to an end, she had to ask against her better judgment.

"My lady…" she started nervously.

"Oh, call me Bilan, please."

"Bilan," she corrected. "Do you… know why you are here?"

The beauty looked surprised at the question and shrugged. "I received an invitation to attend a celebratory feast in Prince Ling Yao's honor. I assumed that it was only because of my and my family's aid to the nation that the invitation was extended to me personally. Even though my father is the brother of the Emperor's wife, I have become the representative of the family name in place of a son, so it made sense for the letter to be addressed to me. Why do you ask?"

Lan Fan looked away from Bilan's inquisitive gaze, feeling sick and oddly ashamed. She did not know. The girl was brought here as the prospective future Empress and she was not even aware. On the other hand, who was she to think poorly of the Council's decisions?

She knew the answer to that rightly enough: she was _no one_ to think against the Council. She was a bodyguard, her opinion did not matter.

"No reason, my lad – Bilan." When Lan Fan next met her eyes, it was with a smile. "It is simply not often that I am privileged to speak with such a kind noble."

Bilan laughed, a girlish sound that suited her perfectly. It made Lan Fan's smile grow, and she felt the urge to join in the laughter for the first time in what seemed like a long time. Only then did she realize how little normalcy had been restored to their lives since returning to Xing. Before their adventures in Amestris, she could not go a week without either being the target or the accomplice of one of Li – the Young Lord's mischievous tricks. Now, after all that had happened, the old childish antics had all but died. The realization gave her an unexpected pang that she did not want to acknowledge.

"I do not really consider myself as much of a noble. I respond to letters of business and I travel to villages that need help, corresponding with and translating for the heads of different clans, but I am not trained well in the courtly etiquette of the royals." She said with a light, almost self-mocking tone. Lan Fan nodded politely, trying not to notice the way it reminded her of how Li – the Young Lord used to talk about the Emperor's Court.

Lan Fan quickened her step slightly as they rounded the last corner that would bring them to the guest quarters. As if on cue, Bilan gave a cry of delight.

"Yes, this looks familiar!" She exclaimed happily. "I recognize that tapestry. My chamber is just a few doors down." She turned back to Lan an and clasped her hand gratefully. The bodyguard flushed, unused to such informal contact from one so above her station, but did not pull away for fear of injuring the girl's feelings.

"I really cannot thank you enough, Lan Fan. Only the gods know how long I would have wandered aimlessly without your help. I hope I can find an opportunity to repay you." Bilan beamed. Lan Fan looked away, for some reason unable to hold this beautiful girl's bright-eyed gaze for long.

"It was a pleasure… Bilan," Lan Fan responded meekly, taking care to call her by her first name. "I will tell a servant to send you a map of the palace so you will not get lost again."

As Lan Fan's eyes focused on the ground, she saw Bilan's hands enter her field of vision, and suddenly her automail hand was joining her flesh one in the sincere clasp if Bilan's softer ones, but she did not look up. It took a moment of silence to prompt Lan Fan to glance up again, only to see Bilan looking at her as if she were a puzzle. Lan Fan's eyebrows lifted in silent question.

Now it was Bilan's turn to blush, realizing she had been staring, and she released Lan Fan's hands. "I'm sorry, it's just… I know I only just met you, Lan Fan, so maybe it is not my place to say, but…" Bilan worried her lip, obviously anxious that she would make another social mishap. Lan Fan waited patiently. "I have the feeling that your grandfather would be proud of you."

Lan Fan stopped breathing in surprise at the random declaration. _What?_

"Seeing you fight with such fierce control and passion was impressive enough, but then you turned around and showed me such kindness with no hesitation. Two such qualities in one person is invaluable, and I only hope that the prince understands how lucky he is to have such a person guarding his life. Your grandfather raised you well," she finished with a modest smile. Lan Fan looked at the girl in awe for a moment, truly at a loss for words. Unbidden, tears pressed against her eyes and a knot tightened her throat.

_Unbelievable, _she thought to herself. _I have met the gentlest soul I have ever encountered who gives me the only compliment I have ever desired, and I feel like crying. Grandfather would be proud indeed. _

Closing her eyes so that the girl before her wouldn't see her foolish reaction, Lan Fan placed her fist in her palm and bowed low to the girl.

"Thank you, Lady Bilan. You do not know how much that means to me," she whispered. Before she could make a greater fool of herself, she turned and walked away, no doubt leaving a stunned girl in her wake. Her footsteps clipped faster and faster along the corridors, until she was at a full-out sprint with ridiculous tears streaming from her eyes. She could not return to guard the young master in this state. She was going to have to ask Makanay to fill in for her while she collected herself.

Lan Fan wiped at her face with her flesh arm, forcing herself to slow down and calm herself. She realized now that the need to meditate was even greater than she had once thought.

Coming to a stop to catch her breath, Lan Fan looked in the direction of the kitchens, where her master was no doubt wondering where in Xing she had gone. Then she glanced behind her, thinking of the girl she had only just met, but who had somehow made her cry from her kindness.

_She will make a perfect Empress._

The resounding truth in that thought wrapped around her like a blanket she was both warmed and trapped by, but she did not shrug it off. Instead, she clutched at it as if to never forget it, as if there could never be any other option. Lan Fan resumed her journey to the kitchens, where Makanay would hopefully be tolerant.

* * *

**1) The Fates Who Cannot Hear**

**2) The Fates We Cannot Hear**

**Cast your vote! This is a direct democracy, here, people! (Or perhaps a benevolent dictatorship... but that's beside the point... ;D)**

**Also, after editing this chapter, I realized what a mess it was. And I had accidentally left an author note in there! That's so tacky! Agh... well rest assured, it has been embellished to a much better version of itself. So... sorry, and I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again. :)**


	4. Dumplings

**Sorry for the slightly later update – It's a good thing today was a Snow Day, or it might have been even farther delayed! The last few days have been extraordinarily busy, and there might be a few late updates in the future: applying to scholarships, financial aid, and more takes up a lot of time. If any of you are seniors, I wish you the best of luck.**

**So! Without further ado, I will announce that the overwhelming majority voted for "The Fates We Cannot Hear", and I quite like this title, so it has been changed! Thank you all for you votes!**

**ClosetFMAfan: Thanks for the politics compliment! I know that if I do too much research, I'll end up making this into way too detailed and long a project – and I really only wanted this to be a semi-short story, so I'm trying to apply the political knowledge I've gleaned from my Gov't and History classes without being too long winded. Therefore, hearing you say I've done a good job with that is really nice!**

**Dotdodot: As a matter of fact, this chapter IS Ling's POV! ****J Great minds think alike, eh? And your comment about the manga-specific battle spurred me to start reading the manga, but it might be a while before this starts actually reaping benefits. So far, everything I've read is just like Brotherhood, so in the meantime, I'll have to rely on you to be my seeing eyes as far as making this as cannon as possible goes. ;)**

**lupin-lunaris: Thank you for your vote! And the compliment, of course. You gave me heart fuzzies! 3**

**Palindrome Pen: The second title it is, then! ****J Looking forward to you continued conversation!**

**Super Sexy Saiyan: My goodness! You're reviews are a writer's dream, my friend! :D Never change. You cannot imagine how relieved I am to hear you say I got Lan Fan spot on… I am always worried about making her too out of character in some way, shape, or form. As for the Bilan-meets-Lan-Fan-scene, I'm still plagued with doubts: is the meeting too rushed? Are they acting too unrealistic? Is this how they would portray their emotions? So, again, hearing you say that this scene was testament to skill in writing truly made my day. :D As always, thank you for the typo catch. It has been altered. Finally, I was not planning on having any Elric brothers make an appearance, but now that you mentioned it, perhaps it would be a good addition… I'll just have to keep you on your toes. ;)**

**leena1445: Thank you so much! My biggest worry, as I've said to other reviewers, is that I won't portray a scene correctly or that my pacing isn't right, so I'm really glad you like my writing style. I'm really not even sure that I, myself, know what my writing style _is_… but I'm glad that you like it! Also, I truly liked both titles I put up for the vote, so it didn't matter to me which one was like the most – and considering this project is mainly for you guys anyway, I thought it was only fair to let you have a say in it! And I'm glad my story has an aura. ;) Good to meet you, and welcome to the story!**

**Overall Notes:  
1)SSS brought up a good question: YES, Makanay is pronounced "Mah-kah-nay", not "May-kah-nay". Probably should have pointed that out sooner.  
2) On a similar note, the name "Rushi" in this chapter is pronounced "Roo-shee".  
3) I'm starting to run out of pre-written chapters, so they might be coming a little slower from here on. On the upside, I'll make sure they're quality on the first try from now on.  
4) Writing Ling and Bilan interact was surprisingly difficult, so please tell me how you think it turned out!  
5) Sorry for the ridiculously long author note. Go enjoy the story now!**

* * *

The Council's impromptu meeting base became the round table at the back of the kitchen so that they could mandate what food was being prepared while tending to other business at the same time. The room was full with the sounds of clattering pots and pans, shouts across the room as chefs barked orders at busboys, and various cooking sounds like chopping and boiling water. Ling was still not entirely sure how he had managed to convince the Councilmen to hold council in the _kitchens _– he suspected it had to do with the fact that most of them were potbellied old men who did not relish missing a meal any more than he did. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw one of the more wizened patrons snag a dumpling from an unsuspecting cooking girl, who looked frightened by his very presence. In the end, she flushed and bowed quickly, quietly accepting the lecture of a palace chef as he reprimanded her for 'misplacing' one of his dumplings.

In the midst of the chaos, Ling was staring at a map of the palace grounds that was marked with colored flag-markers as though it held the prophecy of his untimely doom. The longer he looked at it, the more his consternation grew and he felt a thundercloud of foreboding loomed above him. He felt oddly sick to his stomach.

Shi, enthusiastic as ever, was rambling on in spite of his prince's obvious discomfort.

"So after introductions are given, you will gallantly offer to give Lady Bilan a personal tour of the palace. The first place you should go is the aviary," he pointed to a yellow flag pinned on the map. "The birds are quite lively this time of year and will undoubtedly charm her with their songs."

Cheng glanced nervously at the prince's wan expression before clearing his throat meaningfully.

"Councilman Shi, I do not think – "

"And then it would be more than an ideal to follow-up by showing her the royal music rooms."

"Honestly, is that really – " Cheng sputtered.

"A rather magnificent jewel-encrusted harp arrived not too long ago."

"There is no need to – "

" It could be that she plays the harp, I know that many young ladies do."

"Perhaps it would be better to have the prince – "

Shi tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Now what really needs to be focused on is when you visit the gardens. That's the most amorous setting of the evening, it should be – "

"Councilman Shi!" Cheng boomed, red-faced and exasperated. Startled, the boisterous man paused and looked up expectantly. "May I remind you that we are _not _here to play matchmaker with the prince's future, but are merely giving him the chance to meet the woman he _may,_ or may _not,_ wed soon? We do not wish to mislead the poor girl by wooing her the moment she lays eyes on the next Emperor!"

Shi deflated, reluctantly regaining his stately composure as one of the Elders of the Council as if he had not been blabbering like a hopeless romantic for the last ten minutes.

"I was simply trying to… expedite the process of their relationship." He defended. Turning his attention to the disconsolate young man before him, his voice became inquiring. "Prince Ling, you will not mind my asking… you _do _intend to marry this girl, do you not?"

In an instant, Ling was stunned out of his gloom at the serious question.

_Do I intend to marry her?_

He was caught off guard and felt rather uncomfortable at the question. Ling's mouth formed a grim line, and he answered evasively. "I thought that such was the goal of this banquet, Councilman Shi - that I would be deciding the answer to that question _after_ meeting Lady Bilan."

The newest member of the Council, a man in his late twenties, snorted lightly but not offensively.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, this arrangement is already more gracious than any Emperor's marriage has been in the past. The Council is accustomed to simply choosing a wife that is best-fit for political reasons from each of the fifty clans, and the Emperor has nearly no say in the matter. The least you can do is offer us the course of action that you are most likely to take, based off of the needs of your country."

A moment of silence spread across the table as Councilmen either nodded their heads in agreement or looked grave. Ling was one of the latter.

_Damn! They're really trying to push me into this. What am I supposed to say?_

It turned out he did not have to say anything. Cheng spoke up once more on his behalf.

"Councilman Soto has a point. This is likely the greatest measure of choice in this matter that any Emperor has been given in the history of Xing. The reason for this is simple. When it comes to the tradition sharing one's life with another in marriage, romantic ideals are bound to follow," he paused to give a pointed look at Shi, who had the good sense to look bashful. "Love before matrimony is not a privilege that has ever been allowed to an Emperor. Love makes bright men make foolish mistakes, and turns strong men into blinded weaklings. And in order to rule fifty clans with a steady hand, the Emperor and his Council can have no such distraction." Cheng stated. Ling listened to the man with mixed emotions. He _knew_ that what the Elder said was true, but for some reason, was reluctant to admit it.

"However," the Elder continued with a wry smile. Ling's mood lifted at the hope in that 'however'. "Our prince has already decided to change history. There will no longer be fifty tiresome clans to juggle, but one mighty nation to lead. We have already come to the agreement that the prince need only marry once. Would it not be unwise to rush the prince into marriage with a single woman that he does not care for, and who he will be forced to share his life with, until the end of her days? Love can be distracting, but, as I am sure some of us can agree, an unhappy marriage can be more so."

A few Councilmen shifted in their seats at his last insinuation. Another Councilman spoke up.

"Emperors in the past have managed to live with the Council's choices well enough. Why should this choice be any different?"

The question was met with murmurs of agreement, but Cheng only laughed dryly.

"Councilmen, you must realize that the Emperor's harem is an escape within itself." He pointed out. "When the Emperor tires of one wife, he can move on to the next, and do so fifty times over. Our prince will not have such an opportunity. Unless…" He looked at Ling with a foxy gleam in his eye. "… the Young Lord wishes to alter the commitments of the Emperor's marriage to his liking?"

It was law that the Emperor could not take on mistresses outside of his harem, to avoid the additional complications of illegitimate children in an already tangled web of rightful heirs. The Council agreed that this law would remain even after the harem was dissolved, but obviously Cheng wanted to clarify the matter.

Ling blinked in bafflement, feeling the blood rush to his face at what Cheng was suggesting. Only after attempting to swallow several times did he realize that the Council was actually waiting for his answer.

"N-no!" he croaked. "Of course I won't… marriage is… no. I will not alter the laws of the Emperor's marriage concerning… _mistresses_."

Cheng looked amused. "Good. Now that that is settled…" He turned his attention to the rest of the Council. "… is the Council agreed that Prince Ling will decide for himself if he can commit to marriage with Lady Bilan Xu after the course of due time?"

Mutters of agreement were heard around the table, some willing and some begrudging. Ling breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

The prince consulted the time. The servants must have made their rounds to wake their lords and ladies by now. Bilan was probably rested and ready to roam the palace. Ling felt his uneasiness return at the thought of accompanying the girl that he was likely to marry soon. Then again, it was not like he had much of a choice.

The Council had agreed that it was best if Ling married sooner rather than later – 'sooner' meaning within the next few years. In order for the arrangements, documents, and celebrations to be prepared within that time, they said that he should be at least ready to draw up a list of the most suitable matches after mingling during the feast. If things did not work well with Bilan, he should be ready with other courtiers to fall back on.

Love, indeed.

Ling stood. "Since we're all in agreement, I see no reason to waste any time. If you will excuse me, I have a guest to meet. I am sure you can handle the banquet arrangements without me." He added with an ironic smile. Shi grumbled something about shirking duties before he bent his head over Ling's previously made list of foods to be served. Without another word, he left the Councilmen and headed toward the kitchen doors. As much as he liked the snack foods that were readily available in the kitchens, it would be nice to breathe air that was not saturated with cooking smells.

His mind, after all, was for once not occupied with his next meal.

Seeing as Bilan was the only noblewoman he knew of who was his age, who both did not hold a grudge against him since birth, and was not a pampered royal with no clue of how to handle politics, the 'choice' that he was being presented was more than a little misleading.

Ling dodged servants who were running platters of uncooked food from one end of the kitchens to the other. He shook his head in wonder at the frantic bustle that most of the palace's servants were going through to get this banquet prepared by the evening. It was astounding. And all because some Councilmen calculated that he wouldn't be respected as such a young Emperor unless he had a wife, _then _decided to play matchmaker with a beautiful, kind, and charitable non-heiress of the Xu clan. It could not exactly be surprising that he hadn't even glanced once at the cooked foods.

This banquet was less of an opportunity for Ling to get to know Bilan, and more of an opportunity for him to propose to her outside the boundaries of an actual 'arranged marriage'.

_How did it come to this?_ Ling wondered. He was no fool. He knew that becoming Emperor would mean marriage. He just… it was… this was not what he had been expecting. He had not been prepared to make such a big life decision in such a short span of time. Rather, he had not been prepared to be making _his _life decisions: he had always assumed that, as Emperor, he would be too focused on his country to handle personal affairs. He now realized the flaw in that way of thinking, though it was a little late. How could he handle a whole nation if he could not even take care of his own love life?

_Still, _he thought. _If the general opinion is anything to go by, I'll have no problem _wanting_ to marry her. In fact, the more difficult thing will probably be getting _her _to want _me.

So why did he still feel like he was walking towards a guillotine?

Ling huffed at the ridiculous thought. He most definitely was not walking towards the guillotine. He was walking towards an innocent pair of kitchen doors that would lead to the only speck of normalcy that had remained in his life since Amestris. Lan Fan was just beyond that door, monitoring his _qi _presence with every step he took. Ling smiled at the mental image of Lan Fan's concentrated frown, feeling instantly comforted at the familiarity of his friend.

Ling strode through the threshold and automatically started eyeing the shadows of the palace pillars – Lan Fan was ever-conscious about being overly visible.

His eyes squinted some more. There was… no Lan Fan.

_No… Lan Fan._

The thought did not process correctly. She just must have gotten better at hiding.

"Ah, greetings Your Highness!"

Ling turned, only realizing that the voice did not belong to Lan Fan when he registered the casual form of a different palace guard. She looked familiar, so Ling knew he must have seen her before. Such a character would be hard to forget. She bore a rather unique face that was distinctly non-Xingese, with an eye patch and copper-colored hair. Nevertheless, she bowed low to him as was Xing custom, but maintained an unusual amount of eye contact. Familiar with Xingese custom, but still a foreigner.

"Excuse me, Your Highness. My name is Makanay. I just received notice from Lan Fan that I would be taking over her guard today," she informed.

Ling's eyebrows lifted in surprise. Was this… Lan Fan taking the day off? But why? She seemed fine just this morning.

He tried not to sound overly-concerned when he asked. "Is Lan Fan well? It isn't like her to hand over her guard so readily."

The girl – Makanay – seemed to smile knowingly, and Ling tried not to notice. "Physically, she is fine, Your Highness. Lan Fan simply seemed to need a break."

The prince ignored the irrational pang of guilt that made him grimace, forcing his features to regain his characteristic care-free smile. He should not feel guilty; he himself was the one who often suggested that Lan Fan take a break. Although it was usually because he just wanted to pull pranks without her watching…

"Oh, well good for her! I always tell her that she should find some company other than me to hang around." Ling smiled still, but why did he feel so damn awkward? He hoped that the guard's piercing eyes would look past it, but instinctively knew there was no chance. Somehow, he had the feeling that she knew more than he did.

Makanay just stared at him and snorted. His expression faltered and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Actually, I was planning on meeting a guest that has arrived at the palace. First, we have to see if she's awake, but I plan to show her around." He turned on his heel and began walking, reminded of his original task. He continued talking to the rather unnerving bodyguard without turning to face her fully, feeling more at ease now that her all-seeing-eye was not peering into his soul.

"So you'll actually be able to enjoy a free tour and some nice scenery while on guard duty. Lan Fan has it rough. Sometimes I'm sitting in one conference for hours and she has nothing to do but wait for imaginary assassins," he chatted.

"Assassins or no, I can assure you that Lan Fan is never bored in your company," the girl murmured quietly.

Ling's step faltered, once again caught off-guard by some hidden message in the foreigner's words that he was sure was there but could not quite make sense of. When he glanced back at her and she looked completely nonplussed, he decided to shrug it off. She had spoken softly, so maybe she hadn't even intended him to hear at all… even though he had the feeling that nothing coming out of her mouth was superfluous.

They continued walking in silence after that, with Ling leading and Makanay trailing behind him to his left. The placement seemed off to him, and it was only after trekking through about a dozen tapestries worth of palace corridor that he realized what was bothering him – Lan Fan always walked directly beside him to his right. Without her by his side he felt oddly… unbalanced.

The realization puzzled him more than anything. After all, it was not as if they were never apart. When Fu was alive, the two bodyguards would often take shifts and Ling would not see Lan Fan for hours, or even days, on end. Even now, she had her own generic palace guard shifts to attend to, or he would want to be alone, and he would walk the palace halls unattended. Lan Fan (much to his friend's obvious chagrin) was not always attached to Ling's shadow.

But for some reason, he felt her absence keenly now in a way that made him constantly check from the corner of his eye to make sure she actually wasn't there. And sure enough, every time he checked, he found no Lan Fan. Lan Fan, with her quiet, yet strong and responsive presence. Instead, if he looked out of the opposite corner of his eye, he found a stranger with loud hair and a rather thorny, defensive demeanor.

Once again, Ling shook off his odd feelings in favor of focusing on the task at hand. By now they had reached the guest rooms, where servants were bustling to and fro, delivering breakfasts, and changing sheets for the various court officials that were staying in the palace for the upcoming festivities. Just as he was about to stop one and ask for Lady Bilan, he saw her.

She was walking down the hall while talking to a servant, who was gesturing purposefully to a scroll of paper held in front of her. Both were rather absorbed in the conversation, giving Ling the perfect chance to see what he was up against.

Already his apprehension about the task at hand was returning. He could accept a homunculus into his body, he could become the youngest Emperor of Xing, but it seemed that he was rather in over his head on this one.

The girl was a natural beauty, a perfect balance of dark and light with an almost palpable energy of feminine kindness and tranquility. Her robes were elegant but simple, fitting her both tastefully and modestly. Her earnest brown eyes held a potent vitality in them that had been lost in his photograph of her, lending her a life that showed no sign of flagging. She listened to the servant attentively as the handmaid showed her the contours of what Ling saw to be a map of the palace. It was evident in the way that she held herself while talking to the servant that she did not look down upon those below her station. All in all, she looked like the pinnacle of female aptitude. She looked like an Empress.

The thought lodged itself like a heavy hot-stone in his chest.

He approached a few more steps, and the servant was the first to notice him. She looked a little startled at first, but then quickly rolled up the map she had been decoding for her lady and bowed low in respect and recognition. Bilan, who did not recognize him, took her cue from the servant and bowed in greeting. He stiffly returned the gesture.

The servant, sensing Bilan's confusion, tactfully greeted him for her benefit. "Good morning, Your Highness. My Lady Bilan Xu is becoming acquainted with the palace. Do you have any suggestions, Your Highness?"

Bilan's almond eyes cleared in understanding, and she bowed once more. "I would be honored to accept advice from Prince Ling."

Bilan tried to look collected and graceful, but being in the anxious state that he was, Ling was quick to pick up on her own apparent nervousness. It made him relax a bit, suddenly aware of how silly it was for them both to be uneasy (albeit for different reasons). He smiled.

"Actually, since it is to my understanding that Lady Bilan is the only courtier who does not know her way around, I would be honored to given her a tour myself," he stated with an easiness he did not feel. This was probably only because the Councilmen had rehearsed with him the excuse he should use to spend time with the lady. Bilan blinked in surprise, but then smiled with a blooming excitement. The plan was set in motion.

He felt like he was going to war.

"That would be wonderful!"

And so the helpful servant with the palace map was allowed to return to her other chores as Bilan took Ling's left arm and he began her tour. As Makanay followed them both with discreet efficiency, Ling tried to keep his gaze from wandering to the shadows on his right whenever the conversation found a lull.

Maybe it was the fact that she was almost always with him at this time of day… or maybe it was even because he was meeting one the most potentially important people in his life. All Ling Yao knew was that he wished he could know what Lan Fan was doing right now.

* * *

The first impression that Bilan had of the Future Emperor was… _youth. _He was little older than she was, and she was baffled by the fact that _this _was the renowned prince who had returned from the strange land to the West with the title of Immortal Prince. It was hard to imagine that he, with his easy grin and amiable words, could have fought the battles that he had and lived to tell the tale.

However, Bilan was, if nothing else, perceptive. It did not take her long to realize that there was far more beneath the surface of this young man than she had realized.

First of all, he seemed distracted. He kept discretely looking to his right as if he expected something – or someone – to be lurking there. Whenever she caught his eye after he had glanced backwards, he acted as though nothing of import had happened. Perhaps nothing of import _had _happened, but it was a curious tick that made Bilan wonder. She wondered vaguely if he had been attacked from the right in one of his battles, and now was paranoid. Or perhaps he was still afraid of assassins, even though he was supposedly Immortal.

Ling did not seem paranoid, however – whenever he was not glancing over his shoulder, he was extremely attentive, witty, kind, and even goofy. He certainly did not seem to be the kind of man to succumb to unfounded worries and to be deathly afraid of shadows in stark daylight, especially with guardsmen posted all about the palace, and a personal guard trailing them the entire time.

The descriptor of "Immortal" was a different story. Bilan supposed that she would not know how to tell if someone seemed immortal, since she had never met a person who was such before. Somehow she simply thought he would be more… impressive. Important.

Bilan blushed suddenly at the thought that she had just insulted the _most_ important man in Xing in her thoughts. If he had been anything like the more ruthless Emperors in their history, she could possibly pay with her life if she had uttered such words out loud.

A nervous glance to her right confirmed that Ling had not, in fact, discerned her thoughts – 'Immortal' was not synonymous with 'telepathic', then. For some reason, she found that thought incredibly reassuring. With a quick glance behind her to the red-haired guardswoman who was never far, she started when she met the other women's gaze and blushed at her knowing smirk. Quickly turning her head, she suddenly felt much less reassured on the point of 'telepathy'.

Spending time with Ling was not as she had expected it to be. On one hand, he was incredibly easy to get along with… but on the other, his presence was oddly disconcerting. He was taller than her, but a little shorter than Zhou; more slender and with narrower eyes that seemed to catch everything. Zhou, too, never missed a thing, of course – he just always looked around him with eyes wide open, deep and black and fathomless. She could always see his eyes, unlike with Ling, but that did not necessarily mean that she could discern his thoughts. With Ling, it was the opposite – whenever he did meet her eyes with his own, she felt confident that she could tell what he was feeling… even if those feelings did not make much sense to her.

The more time they spent walking around the palace with Ling giving her a forced-sounding tour and obviously trying to entertain her, the more she became certain that he was incredibly uneasy about something. The only thing she could not imagine was about _what. _

_Perhaps he is secretly introverted,_ she pondered. _And he does not know how to act socially._

If this was true then he was going to have a difficult time as an Emperor. She grimaced.

Unfortunately, Ling seemed to notice that time. He stopped in the middle of advertising some new jewel encrusted instrument called a 'harp', the likes of which she had only ever seen pictures of, and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I am boring you, aren't I."

It was not a question. Bilan thought it was prudent not to answer it as if it had been one. In her corner, the guardswoman snickered quietly, and the Lady blushed in answer instead.

Now it was Ling's turn to grimace. "I am sorry, really. I promise I am usually much more… _dashing._ Perhaps it's the…" he looked uncomfortably at the door, for some reason. "… the upcoming festivities that have me so tied up in knots."

_So he _is _unsocial then. Poor man._

This time Ling seemed to catch on to her poorly veiled pity, and tried to change the subject.

"Is there anything you wanted to see or do in the palace in particular? I know that the first thing I wanted to do once I came here was have a dish of each of my favorite foods delivered to my room, simply because I could. Granted, I was only ten the first time I got to visit my father, so there were more sweets involved than anything, but…" Ling trailed off as he realized he was rambling, and cleared his throat, awkwardly placing his hands in his robes so that he would not toy with them.

Bilan was suddenly struck with how hard he seemed to be trying, and could not catch the bubble of laughter that fought its way out of her chest. What truly got to her was that this was the future _Emperor. _She was talking to one of the most experienced, traveled, learned men this country knew of, and he seemed to not know what to do with himself around… _her. _She was nothing but a distant relation to a harem wife. Her only purpose in life was to _maybe_ relieve the hardships of the clans around her. All of this was true, and yet _he,_the Immortal Prince for crying out loud, had this uncomfortable, rambling way of trying to be friendly... for her! It was endearing and ridiculous, and she found that all of this tension was completely unneeded. If _he _could somehow find a reason to be unsure of himself around _her, _of all people, then she was surely not going to encourage such behavior.

Ling, however, had completely misinterpreted her reaction, and subsequently had very red ears around this time.

"You are laughing at me."

Bilan laughed again, but only at the additional ridiculousness. "I promise, I am not!"

Despite himself, he snorted a little at that and gave a begrudging smile. "Well, I must say, you are a _very_ convincing liar. Completely fooled me."

In the end, his unexpected, witty sense of humor was what did her in. The unfathomable tension of the situation paired with the ironic banter made her giggles turn into hearty laughs, the likes of which she had not had in a long time. She could not stop at this point even if she wanted to – even if there was nothing funny happening, because now, _everything _was funny – and she supposed it was a good thing that Ling eventually joined in, because otherwise it would have been immensely rude of her.

They laughed together until they both had nothing to laugh at besides the image of the other person laughing, which consequently made the cycle of uproarious laughter endless. It was also a good thing everyone was preparing for the festival because this was all quite an improper display. The tension and decorum melted away as the Future Emperor and Lady Bilan doubled over in their fine silks and shared a good, long laugh simply for the sake of it. Bilan caught herself leaning on his shoulder for support as she felt light headed, and attempted to regain some semblance of composure.

Forcing several deep, shuddering breaths into her aching stomach, Bilan wiped tears from her sore cheeks. Mirth bubbled forth and her chest vibrated with it, but she muffled her chuckles as Ling tried to do the same. Somehow, she found the breath enough to speak.

"It just so happens, good Emperor, that laughter makes me quite ravenous. Suppose you could accompany me to find a good meal?"

Ling almost lost it at her unnecessarily hoity-toity tone of voice, but struggled to follow her lead.

Gravely, he leaned in. "My Lady, it may have escaped your notice, but the kitchens are currently preparing for a three-day feast."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He nodded, "Indeed. Thusly, should we venture towards the kitchens without caution, we may find our necks in mortal peril." He glanced surreptitiously towards his bodyguard – who looked both amused and bemused at their antics – and leaned in closer, as if to tell a secret. "Rumor has it, two kitchen hands have been _dispatched _by the fury of the Head Chef for stealing a few carrots."

"Oh my!"

"Yes. Nasty business."

Bilan could not help but give an unladylike sound of ill-concealed laughter, which inadvertently turned out very snort-like, and broke the play acting. Ling also straightened, smiling, and seemed much more natural.

_Perhaps not so antisocial after all._

"But truly, I am hungry." She began again. In thought, she bit her lip, knowing that there was a grain of truth in his jest. The kitchens were sure to be absolute chaos right about now, what with the stress of providing food for all of the current guests as well as preparing for the feast. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You know, I remember passing a promising-looking eatery on my here. It cannot be far from the palace – just in the marketplace. Perhaps we could try there?"

Ling raised his eyebrows and looked behind him, askance of the bodyguard. The nonchalant woman shrugged her shoulders.

"Wherever you wish to risk your royal neck is up to you." The woman spoke with a strange accent, but with otherwise flawless Xingese.

"It's settled then!" Ling smiled. "To the marketplace we go."

* * *

Ling and Bilan rode to the eatery she remembered on horseback by her request, which was how he discovered that she was an excellent equestrian. She had explained that her family often had to ride on horseback without carriages for the sake of time to travel from one clan to another, and it had been second nature to her ever since she was large enough to maintain her own horse. Furthermore, her uncle dabbled in the breeding of horses, so she knew a good deal about the origins of different horses, as well as how each is best taken care of. Ling found the topic fascinating, as he himself had only had exposure to the beasts after he had visited the palace for the first time. He had since become accustomed to riding, and even did it for pleasure sometimes, but it was nothing to the way Bilan looked as if she had been born in a saddle. Makanay, on the other hand, had grumbled a bit at having to ride a horse of her own, but had managed well enough. In a strange way, the woman looked almost like Lieutenant Hawkeye, watching them from atop a black mare with a demeanor as sharp as her own.

Now that he was not trying to give some flowery, forced speech that Shi was sure to be proud of, Ling found Bilan's company… enjoyable. He was quickly forgetting the discomforting amount of his future that rode on this outing and was remembering the fun that went into getting to know another person.

It did not take the two long to discover that they had a shared passion in food.

Even as they rode to their prospective meal, the two began chatting about all of their favorite dishes, and all the talk of duck in plum sauce, pork and noodles, and fresh spring rolls, among other things, was making both their mouths water. When they entered the marketplace and the atmosphere dominated by cooking foods, it was all both could do to not run to the nearest vendor and buy the whole lot.

"Oh, there it is!" Bilan cried excitedly, pointing. The establishment was small but well kept, with windows alight and glowing invitingly. The sign above the door looked freshly painted and clean, and proudly bore the words "The Destiny of Dumplings".

As they neared and dismounted to tie up their horses, Ling had to admit that the smell wafting out of the place was heavenly. "I can see why this place got your attention".

Bilan hummed and looked pensive as she rubbed her mare's nose and produced a few sugar cubes to give her from her robes. "It was actually the name of the place that caught my eye first." She stepped away from her horse and smiled at him. "Then the smell, of course."

They waited for Makanay to dismount and join them before stepping up to enter the cookery.

The smell of good food instantly intensified and the comforting sounds of merriment and conversation tumbled over them with the welcoming atmosphere. A matronly woman behind a cooking counter noticed their entrance, and bustled over while wiping her hands on her apron. On the way she checked on several people and greeted patrons like they were old friends, ushering them to find any free tables. The place was not overly packed, but was by no means deserted – the business was definitely good, and for good reason, if the food stuffs Ling could see were anything to go by.

It was only when the woman was right in front of them that she made direct eye contact. "Good evening! My name is Madame Fen. You two seem to be new faces around here; may I escort you to – "

The woman – Madame Fen – stopped short and her eyes widened with a flicker of recognition. Ling felt some of his earlier discomfort creeping back, realizing that he had not even considered the chance of being recognized. He had been hoping to spend an uneventful meal with Bilan, but now the chances of that seemed slim, as Madame Fen seemed to almost shake with her discovery.

In a moment, however, it became clear that Ling needn't have worried – for it was Bilan's hands that the woman was clasping in the kind of joyful fervor of two old friends reuniting.

Ling, surprised, looked at Bilan and became even more surprised when she seemed to know exactly what was going on. She smiled at the woman fondly. "I had a feeling that you might be the owner of this wonderful kitchen, but I had to be sure. It is so good to see you again, Madame Fen."

The woman looked close to tears. "I cannot believe it's you! After all this time, I – " she sniffed with emotion, and seemed to remember herself, catching the bewildered look of Ling. "Oh, but I forget myself. And you came with a young man! Come, come – you two shall have the best seats in the house, I will settle for nothing less."

"Actually, Madame," Bilan put in. "I was hoping I could see the conditions of the kitchen, and perhaps… meet your son?"

If Madame Fen had been emotional before, now she seemed simply overwhelmed. Seemingly shocked with some kind of emotion that Ling could not begin to understand the cause of, the woman pressed a hand to her chest and nodded, once again tearful. "Of course! But of course… come right this way."

As the woman began weaving her way between patrons towards what seemed to be the entryway to the kitchens, Ling caught Bilan's elbow as they followed. Although he was brimming with questions, the only one that made to the surface was, "Do you know each other?" He grimaced, realizing how stupid that question was. Immediately he felt like a fool – of course they knew each other. How could they not have, with such a reunion scene as that?

Bilan, however, did not seem to notice the redundancy of the question and blushed, as if remembering herself. "I'm so sorry… I promise I will explain shortly. I would have warned you, but I wasn't sure that there was anything to warn you about." She grimaced herself, looking apologetic. "I'm afraid that was terribly rude of me."

Ling frowned but accepted her answer, shrugging off her apology. He supposed he was simply not used to feeling so out of the loop.

As they neared the kitchen entrance, Ling also noticed something else – the lack of stares they were attracting. Whenever he did catch someone looking, they seemed to be focused more on Ling and Bilan's fine robes (though they had had the sense to change into something less rich before leaving the palace, there was still an obvious difference between the quality of fabrics). No one seemed to realize that the young man in their midst was the future Emperor of Xing. Ling frowned thoughtfully, understanding now why the Councilmen were so concerned about his public image. It was because he _had _none. He had been so absorbed with learning how to be an Emperor and preparing his people for the future that he had neglected making sure the people knew _him – _as a result, he could walk into the marketplace that was closest to the very palace he lived in, and no one even knew his face. It was an unsettling conclusion.

Meanwhile, the woman leading them cleared the way to let them enter a kitchen that was just as lively as the kitchens in the palace – perhaps more so, due to the smaller space. Unaffected by the flurry of activity, Madame Fen navigated the area expertly, even calling out a few pieces of advice and warning as she passed cooks chopping, searing, and serving out dishes.

It soon became obvious as to where the woman was leading them. A boy of about ten years old sat in the back with arms immersed in soapy water up to the elbows, chatting with fellow maids and smiling. He looked up when Madame Fen approached, and smiled a toothy grin. Ling noticed that the boy was scrawny and pale, with shadows in his face that implied weak health, but had rare light blue eyes that shone with animation.

"It's so busy today, Mama! My fingers are all shriveled like a witch's from the water!" He gestured to his current chore, showing his wrinkled hands proudly.

Madame Fen smiled fondly and kissed the boy on the head. Ling did not really know what to do with himself, and so tried his best to melt into the background as Makanay had done, playing the part of silent observer. Lan Fan would be proud.

"Just a bit longer, dear, and then I'll see if I can find you another job." Madame Fen consoled her son. With one hand on his back, she gestured to a smiling Bilan. "Tell me, Rushi, do you recognize who this is?"

Bilan's smile grew as Rushi stared hard at her, as if with deep concentration. Slowly, the boy's face lit up with recognition, and he stood up excitedly, inadvertently splashing water from his bucket.

"You're that Lady! I remember you for your smile!" He looked with wondering eyes at his mother. "What is she doing here?"

While his mother pinched his ear for sounding so tactless and rude, Bilan laughed. "We actually came to find a meal. I saw this place as I was traveling to the palace and the name struck a cord with me. I had to see if my intuition was right."

"Oh, of course!" Madame Fen gushed. "You two must be so hungry, and I am just a sentimental old woman. You can catch up with Rushi later – for now, you must eat!"

Without delay, the two were hurried out of the kitchens to a quiet corner of the cooking house, where Madame Fen personally took their orders and hurried back to the kitchens. Their food arrived in record time, and he had to admit, it was exceptionally good. Despite the distraction, however, Ling found that he could not contain his curiosity any longer.

"Though the food is delicious, I have the distinct impression that there is another reason why you were interested in this place," he hinted.

Bilan sighed, setting down her aromatic tea (which was also, Ling noticed, masterfully brewed). "I know. That all must have been incredibly awkward for you, but like I said earlier, I did not want to warn you about anything until I knew for sure. You could say Madame Fen and I are… old friends." She smiled softly, taking another sip of her tea.

Ling arched an eyebrow. "Old friends? She looked at you as if you were a deity sent from the heavens."

A blush colored the tips of Bilan's ears and she looked suddenly bashful. "Madame Fen makes too much of my involvement with her situation. You see, two years ago, her husband died with an incredible amount of gambling debt, leaving her and her son destitute and with a soiled name and reputation."

Frowning, Ling leaned forward. "That's another thing – her son. Is he sickly?"

Bilan nodded. "Yes. That was part of the reason why their situation as so desperate. In one fell swoop, Madame Fen lost her husband and all the means with which she could pay for medicine for her son. As his health declined more and more, she was forced to resort to supporting herself and her son in the only way that was open to her." She looked sadly at her noodles. Ling understood the implication – prostitution was not an uncommon profession for struggling women, nor was it a kind one. Ling found a new kind of sympathy for the woman who seemed so motherly and kind.

"But… how did you two meet if she was in such conditions?"

Bilan looked up then, a small smile tugging at her pretty mouth. "That's where the story gets interesting. Madame Fen found that she still did not have enough money to support herself, her son, and his medical expenses, so she also began selling hot meals to any passerby or to any of her other… customers." She cleared her throat. "Well, in any case, one day my mother and I were traveling through the district she lived in for negotiation purposes with one of the known elites who resided there, leeching off of the dirty money that came to him by monopolizing the trade there, both legal and illegal. Despicable man. I was only fourteen but I could tell even then that he was the kind of scum who would sell anything and any_one _to make profit." She shuddered. Ling felt the strong desire to comfort her or, at the very least, land a good punch on the man in question, but refrained himself from interrupting. It bothered him that he was so little aware of the things taking place in his own country. Of course he knew of the existence of the black market, and he even knew the names of some of the top drug lords who were being hunted, but it occurred to him that he had had precious little hands-on experience with these matters since his return to Xing.

"Anyways, it happened one day that I got separated from my mother and was left to fend for myself in the streets." She gave a little laugh. "I was terrified! I had seen places like this, mind you, but I had always had someone with me. There I was, stranded with no money in my purse and in clothes that stuck out like a beacon amid the squalor, a sitting duck waiting to be attacked by some bandit or another. Besides that, I hadn't eaten since the day before because we had been in such a hurry, and was practically starving!

"I remember I was just on the verge of tears when I suddenly caught the smell of one of my favorite dishes being cooked in the air. The ginger was strong and it smelled so good that I nearly forgot about my worry at being separated from my mother. I followed the scent as best I could, trying to ignore the part of town I was entering, and the woman who was cooking it turned out to be none other than Madame Fen."

_Of course,_ Ling thought. _It's all coming together._ Bilan was fascinating to watch as she told her story, her eyes glazed over with remembrance and cheeks flushed with the animation of reliving the tale.

"Well, like I said, I had no money on me – I had given it to my mother, who was to be the financial manager of the trip. So when I found Madame Fen, I had nothing to give her, and was just as good as any other beggar. She seemed so kind and motherly, however, that I pleaded with her anyway to at least let me stay with her until I could think of some way to contact my mother. She agreed and, as my hunger grew, I asked her if I could help her cook in order to pay for a meal."

Ling raised his eyebrows. "You can cook?"

Bilan blinked, surprised from being taken from her narrative, but smiled. "Yes! I have learned to cook from a young age. Usually the situation is turned around, after all – when my family makes visits to other villages, often it is _me_ who cooks meals and gives them to the hungry. Imagine how embarrassed I was to be on the other side of the bowl this time!"

Ling could only half imagine her embarrassment. During his time in Amestris, he had had no qualms about accepting the (albeit forced) charity from a certain State Alchemist. He smirked to himself, but decided to keep his thoughts private. Bilan continued, oblivious to his reaction.

"Madame Fen, the saint that she was, agreed and let me have a meal basically for free, despite the intense lack of resources she had to sustain charity." She shook her head to herself, lost in her own thoughts. "It was truly the most incredible and kind act I had ever witnessed. She had no way of knowing whether or not I was telling the truth about my family's wealth, or even if I was lying through my teeth about my mother in order to gain her sympathies. All she knew was that I seemed like a lost, hungry girl who had been unintentionally abandoned. Despite all of her hardships, her heart was big enough to give me some of the food that would have otherwise gone towards supporting her own son.

"Needless to say, I felt incredibly indebted to her and wanted to help her in any way I could. Because I had no money and could not go out and buy her ingredients, I instead spent time with her son for the hours that I was in her care. He was terribly ill, but he also was surrounded by the filth of his environment. Poor Madame Fen never had enough time to clean up properly between cooking for patrons, entertaining them, and buying ingredients and medicine. I decided to help by cleaning everything to the best of my ability." Here she looked a little proud of herself. "I imagine that those floorboards and bedclothes were never quite so clean as they were after I was through with them. I ended up hauling buckets of water from the district's well so that I could give Rushi, who was only eight or so at the time, a much needed bath and lending him my outer cloak so that he could be in clean clothes for once." She smiled a little ruefully. "He was always a small boy, but he's grown so much – back then, he was stunted by his illness and poor conditions, and he practically swam in the thing."

She took a deep breath. "Well, by the time dusk rolled around, my mother somehow found her way to me, all panicked, and there I was – sleeves rolled up and tending to a sickly child as Madame Fen used the ingredients I had helped her chop earlier to cook up meals for a low fee. My mother was sick with worry, and ended up giving Madame Fen most of her purse in gratitude. The poor woman was so surprised at being repaid for something that she had been so sure would be charity that she practically kissed my mother right then and there!"

Bilan burst out laughing, as if at an inside joke, and Ling cocked his head in askance. Noticing his look, she cleared her throat. "My mother is a very _imposing _woman, Your Highness. It was comical, to say the least."

Ling nodded. "So is that the end of the story?"

Bilan shook her head, looking wistful again. "Not quite. Even as we were walking away from Madame Fen and her son, it didn't seem right to me. In the end, I pleaded with my mother to give her finances enough to take her out of this squalor. She said she would bring the matter up with my father, who would arrive the next day. When he finally came, I told him about the woman who had taken care of me and how amazing her food was even in such conditions." She grimaced again. "I might have exaggerated a bit, but I had been so hungry and I was so thankful for her kindness that I couldn't help it. In the end, he told me that if he ate some of her food and thought that it lived up to my description, he would pay off her more immediate debts, give the woman enough money to travel to a better city and set up a respectable establishment and support herself and her son, and pay off the rest of her debt herself."

He was impressed. Try as he might, he could not imagine his own father, the Emperor himself, being so giving with his subjects. "What happened?"

Bilan rolled her eyes. "Of course, my father probably knew I was exaggerating, but he has always been indulgent of me. He ended up eating some of Madame Fen's best food and making a humongous ruckus as so how delicious it was. He did as he said he would, and even though Madame Fen said she would be forever indebted to me and my family, I am almost positive he did it more for my benefit than for hers. Still," she pensively swirled the dregs of her tea. "I had always wondered what had become of Madame Fen and her son. We saw them off the day they departed to head here, to the capital, and they have sent us letters occasionally, but it was usually just evidence that they were spending my father's money well and paying off their debts. When I got the invitation to come to the palace, I knew I wanted to keep my eye out for them." She took a final bite from her dish, as if to signal the close of her narrative.

Ling sat back in his seat, the spell of Bilan's story now broken. He hadn't even realized that he was leaning forward on his elbows, engrossed in her tale. He felt a bevy of conflicting emotions, but foremost was the discomfort that this one girl, who did not even know that her future was invested in the throne, had had such personal connections with the people that he had sworn to protect. It was made painfully obvious to him now that, sometime between his declaration in Amestris to the present day, he had become disconnected from his people. Not his nation, per se, but his _people._

Another factor of his discomfort came from the fact that this girl was obviously proving the Councilmen right. Not even a full day into her acquaintance, and she was already making him think critically about his relationship with his people and the consequences of his future actions. Already the ideas he had for his nation's future were expanding and morphing into something more close and personal, instead of simply making it into a 'nation unified and easier to protect'. Not to mention that he enjoyed her company.

They were right. She _would _make a perfect Empress. But why did that thought sit like a sword above his head waiting to drop?

Taking a thoughtful bite from a red bean paste dumpling, he switched to a different subject.

"One last question," he began, swallowing. "How did you know that this place, of all places, was likely to be Madame Fen's establishment?"

Bilan looked a little startled at the question, and let out a little burst of laughter. "It's a simple thing, really. Madame Fen's nickname for me was 'Dumpling'."

Ling nearly choked on his bite. His incredulous look made her laugh more and flush pink.

"I know, it's a little embarrassing. But she always said that my light skin and round face reminded her of a dumpling. During my time spent with her, she began rambling on about the strange destiny of her 'little Dumpling', and when I saw the name of this place, I couldn't help but remember her." She smiled to herself. "I'm glad I followed my instincts."

Ling chuckled again and agreed. He savored the last few bites of his meal, thinking that it truly was some of the best he had had in a while – not that he would tell the palace chef as much.

_I have to take Lan Fan here._

The thought came from nowhere, but Ling was struck with how much he missed his friend's presence. Though she would never have admitted as much, he knew she would have loved the romanticism of Bilan's story, not to mention the good food. That was when he realized that he had unwittingly ordered Lan Fan's favorite spicy pork dish… and somehow, it did not taste as full of flavor without her there. He felt a pang of some emotion – Worry? Guilt? – when he looked into the shadows and did not sense her presence. Despite the hot meal and comforting atmosphere, he felt… alone.

Ling shook himself off and rose, holding out a hand to help Bilan up as he paid for their meal. There was no reason to feel alone. Lan Fan was safe and spending time on herself, just like he always told her to. Ling was enjoying the company of the woman who might be his future wife and Empress of the nation, just like his Councilmen had told him to. Makanay was keeping a watchful and capable eye on him, just as Lan Fan had told her to. Everyone had permission to do whatever it was they were doing.

Nothing was out of place. This was what he tried to convince himself of, even as Bilan went back to the kitchens and they exchanged some last goodbyes with Madame Fen and her son. They never told them exactly who Ling was.

He tried to convince himself of this even as they wandered the market, buying different fruits and snacks to munch on the way back to the palace. Even as he led Bilan back to their horses and they began a leisurely ride back to the royal grounds, he could not shake the feeling that all of this convincing was unsuccessful. By this time, the sun was getting lower in the sky and the light was turning a rich amber color. He shared a few laughs with Bilan, telling her stories about the outlandish food he ate in Amestris, including an odd dessert pastry called 'apple pie'. For some reason or other, he stayed clear of stories including the pranks he pulled with – or on – his bodyguards, or the times that he and Lan Fan would go off on their own to leave Fu driven out of his mind with worry. Somehow, it all felt off. Wrong.

It was only when he left Bilan outside her rooms with a promise to save a dance for her during the feast that he began to narrow down the source of the pit that was in his stomach. He could still not understand _why, _but he had a feeling he was beginning to understand the _what. _Distractedly, he retired to his own rooms and dismissed Makanay. Picking up a book about politics and flopping onto his bed, he stared unseeingly at the pages. He went over the events of the day, forced to acknowledge the fact that the only thing wrong with anything was in his head. To anyone else, the day was perfect. Escaping the pressures of the Councilmen, he had actually learned something about the state of things with his people, and how much more he needed to learn. He had made a new friend, possibly an opening to a future romance, and his best friend had gotten a day off out of the deal. Ling snapped his book shut irritably and began pacing about his room, unable to sit still, like a prisoner in a cage.

Why did it feel like betrayal?


	5. Clearing the Air

**Whoo! Hurrah for a new chapter. I have some serious things to say before I get to review responses and whatnot. Just for the record, if Fanfic hadn't been having technical errors all day, this would have been up around noon. :/ So, yeah. Not totally my fault.**

**First of all, this chapter had a lot of inspiration from outside sources. The two main ones that any of you will recognize if you've read/seen/learned them are:**

** 1) The Stormlight Archives, by Brandon Sanderson. This comes in when Lan Fan is talking about the different stances of martial arts, and she calls them "Stone Stance" and such. Sanderson uses this a lot in his original universe's fighting styles, and though I changed a few of the names for this story's benefit, I probably wouldn't have thought of it without reading his stuff. **

**2) The stances that Lan Fan talks about are also shameless imitations of the five basic stances of Wushu, which is Chinese martial arts. The actual names of these stances are the Horse Stance, the Forward Stance, the Drop Stance, the Cat Stance, and the Cross Stance (Ma Bu, Gong Bu, Pu Bu, Xu Bu, and Xie Bu), put in the order that I use in this chapter. I learned about and analyzed them mainly from youtube videos, and I recommend "Beginner Wushu Techniques: Five Stances of Wushu", posted by expertvillage. The woman who does the videos is really phenomenal – she moves exactly like I imagine Lan Fan moving in my head. Very cool. **

**Other cultural notes: **

**A 'loquat' is an actual Chinese fruit and, from what I can gather, it is a kind of a cross between a western apple and plum: it has several small, inedible seeds inside it, but the texture and skin seem more plum like. They also grown in bunches, like bananas, and seem smaller than the average apple. **

**I thought about relating the five basic stances of martial arts to the five precepts of Buddhism, but realized that whatever religion they follow in Xing probably isn't called 'Buddhism', and to go through the process of drawing the parallel would be too much of a derailment from the purpose of the scene. Still, it's a good parallel, if any of you are interested in looking it up.**

**The hydrangea flower in Chinese culture is, apparently, used as a symbol of gratitude and enlightenment, which is why it is used in a very important scene. If any of you know differently, please let me know – this information is only the product of a relatively brief internet search. I could be wrong.**

**Finally, the dessert called 'lashnak' that I mention at the end of this chapter is just a little goodie that I made up in my brain house for Makanay's culture. She lives west of Amestris, and in my head her native land is very militaristic, but also diverse with its exports and food culture. Lashnak to me is kind of like baklava - a sticky, sweet, completely unhealthy Turkish treat. So good.**

**As far as responses go: Thanks to leena1445, Dotdodot, and Ice Maiden Olivier for responding and complimenting the last chapter. You all had very kind words and good ideas – but this author note is too long already. Since no one had questions to answer, I'll just give you all a big THANK YOU instead!**

**I had a lot of fun writing this chapter… sorry it's a little shorter than usual, but I thought this would be a really good end, and couldn't bring myself to extend it. If I had, it would have been monstrous… and I'd be posting this a few days later than I am. Hope you enjoy reading it!**

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Lan Fan spent her day mostly as she had planned. First, she made good on her promise to herself and meditated until her mind was cleared and calmed. It was not that she understood her odd, mixed emotions towards her master and Bilan, because she still did not. She had the feeling that she would not want to understand even if she could.

She had, however, resolved to let the emotions name themselves in due time rather than worry herself over the matter. A saying Grandfather had once told her after waking from nightmares of the Young Lord being assassinated was, "Worry gives small things big shadows". It was not the first time that his advice had soothed her spirits.

After that, she had trained. And trained, and trained.

It was almost like a purification ritual, using every ounce of her concentration, energy, and effort to work her body to its absolute limits, and then some. She sparred against almost every guard in the palace and won most the fights. She exercised her balance on bamboo poles until she did not even need to think about finding her center, even pushing herself to support all of her weight on a single finger. Then she worked on switching the finger to her flesh hand as opposed to the one of automail. Then she worked one making that flesh finger her pinky. By the time she was done with that practice, she felt lighter physically than she had felt in a long time.

The palace's equipment to train agility was also something she frequented, weaving through obstacles faster, more fluidly, and more imperceptibly all the time. She barely stopped for breaks, only pausing to drink water because of the lectures Grandfather had given her and the concern of her fellow guardsmen. Then she would be back to dancing with the shadows, working on her _qi yanbi _stamina while she was at it. Once, with a little inspiration that would have made the young master proud, she used the products of her increased stealth and _qi _cloaking to sneak up on a dozing palace guard and square him half to death with the image of her mask forming (seemingly) out of nowhere. She had had herself a good laugh at that one, and promised to tell the young master about it later.

By the time it was noon, she had done at least two days' worth of straight training, but she was nowhere closer to finding the inner peace she craved. Lan Fan stopped briefly by the fruit bearing trees near the training grounds, snatching a loquat fruit – similar, if she remembered correctly, to what Amestrians called _plums _ \- and nibbled on the sweet flesh thoughtfully. The sun was high above and she could feel the full effects of its heat, especially with the lack of shade in the training courtyard. Licking the trickling juice of the loquat from her fingers, she sighed restlessly, thinking about what Grandfather would have had her do. She had already done strength, stealth, balance, and agility training – what else was there?

In a breath, Lan Fan was taken back to a much simpler time, when she was first starting her training under her Grandfather. She remembered him taking her into a secretive forest clearing, sitting her down, and telling her how to meditate – she also recalled protesting that she wanted to learn how to _fight._ He had scolded her, of course, saying that control and mindfulness were the most important parts of training, and she would not be allowed to advance if she did not master them. That was the day he taught her how to truly breathe for the first time. Afterwards, that secret coven of peace had become her favorite place to meditate and train, and it was where he first taught her the beginning steps of martial arts. Throwing away the seeded core of her loquat, Lan Fan did not hesitate as she headed for the one place she realized she wanted to be more than anything right then.

Once at the place of her memories, Lan Fan paused before taking the trek into the forest that would lead to the peaceful clearing. It occurred to her then that the last time she had been here, she had been accompanied by Grandfather. It had been the day before their departure to Amestris… neither had known for sure if they would come back alive. In the end, only one of them did.

Lan Fan's hands clenched of their own accord as she forced air into her lungs, pushing back the bitter pain of memories, taking a sip of water from her wineskin to ease the lump in her throat. She needed this more than she knew.

Gathering herself, she took the first step from the daylight into the muted green lighting of the secluded forest. Immediately it was as if the air grew fresher and stiller, and she was entering another world. As she continued, letting her feet lead her by memory, she looked around her and was filled with the kind of wonder that comes with discovering something for the first time. The eyes she observed this scenery with were so different now that everything seemed just as alien, yet comfortingly familiar. The air was a cool respite from the heat of the sun, the plush Earth beneath her feet crisp and pulsing with the life of _qi _all around her. The smallest details – the flitter of a curious bird as she glided between branches, the rustle of the underbrush, the fallen leaves shifting in eddies of wind currents – seemed so rich and vibrant now in a way they had not been before. Lan Fan could not be sure what had changed, but she felt herself in awe because of it.

After passing the landmark gnarled tree – she had always thought it looked like the warped throne of some woodland deity when she was younger – she knew she had come to the entrance of the clearing, veiled as it was by a covering of vines. Everything stilled, in that moment. Lan Fan had the strange feeling she was at a cross roads, or something of the sort. She had the choice of revisiting a place that had only ever been shared with her by the person who had taught her everything she knew, possibly opening old wounds and undoubtedly forming new memories to replace the old ones; or, she could let sleeping dogs lie. Turn back now and let this place stay in her heart as the one place she and Grandfather had kept secret from the world.

Something inside her knew that she had already made the choice. She had to move on. If that risked the memories she had of Grandfather in this place, then so be it. Raising her automail hand to part the vines, Lan Fan took the plunge.

The light that had earlier been tempered by foliage now came alive with full force, and Lan Fan's breath caught at the same time that she flinched. Of course, the intensity of the light was the reason why she was forced to look away, but the reason why her lungs were no longer obeying her was quite different. As she became adjusted to the brightness, she found herself unbelievably thankful that she had chosen to revisit this place.

It was… ethereal, making raw emotion catch Lan Fan's breath in her throat as awe took had a difficult time believing that such a place existed on Earth. Lan Fan actually found herself wondering if, perhaps, it did _not _really exist and if she tried to find it again tomorrow, it would be transformed into a normal clearing once more. Perhaps it was her fatigue playing tricks on her, or her memories were casting a veil of fondness over the scene, but the tranquility that she found here seemed to truly permeate the air.

The grass was vibrant and soft under her padded feet, and in a moment of inspiration she threw off her foot coverings. Bliss wove its way up her body as her toes curled into the lush earth and grass, her eyes closing in utter delight. Instinctively, she breathed in deeply, and felt sweet, mossy forest air calm her mind. Lan Fan felt as though she had just entered some haven in which time was suspended and no mortal troubles could dare bother her. The whirlpool of dark emotion she had been struggling to suppress all day in her mind's eye was utterly calm, and she could sense no malice from its depths.

Surveying her surroundings more closely, Lan Fan found the features of the clearing snagging at her memory. The abnormal mound in the middle of the clearing was where Grandfather used to sit, instructing her from his place. A low hanging bough towards her right had often been used to hang a target on, or had otherwise been a favorite of hers to lounge in during her breaks. The hollowed tree there used to house a family of birds, who would either sing merrily or squawk in alarm if a tray kunai hit too close to home. Lan Fan felt a smile grow on her lips as she remembered the stern countenance of her Grandfather struggling between amusement or reproach at the harmless mistake. He had given her one of those resigned sighs that she had learned by then only meant that he was laughing on the inside.

Walking over, Lan Fan placed a reverent hand upon the mound he had frequented, feeling closer to his presence than she had in a long time. Perhaps it was the change in setting, or the sudden peace that was stealing into her soul… but this time, when the tears rose and her throat tightened, she did not fight them. In the real world, she could never allow herself this kind of display… but then, this was not the real world, was it? It was a haven made for the deities themselves. Lan Fan felt inexplicably liberated by the freedom of that thought, and let the tears roll freely. Her long-since removed mask dropped to the cushioned ground at her feet.

While a moment before Lan Fan had been reading to drop to the ground with fatigue and meditate, she was now renewed with a refreshing energy. Although she knew she still needed to meditate on her inner turmoil, she also felt like somehow, simply being in this magical place was a kind of induced meditation. Just being in such a peaceful atmosphere did her spirit wonders, and now she wanted to be moving again, to know that she was _alive. _Unbidden, one of the first memories she had of this place flashed in her mind.

_"Lan Fan". Grandfather's voice pulled her from her meditation. The young girl blinked open her eyes, wide and unassuming._

_"Yes, Granfather?"_

_There was a humorous crinkle in the old man's eyes as he unfolded himself from his lotus position. Without another word, he arranged himself in the sturdy stance she recognized as the basic fighter's stance – on guard, rooted, and steady. After a moment of pause, with Lan Fan staring uncomprehendingly, he looked at her expectantly._

_"Well? What are you still sitting for?" He questioned gruffly. When she only furrowed her little brown and cocked her head, not daring to assume what he meant, his face relaxed a little._

_"You are ready, Lan Fan. Stand up now, and learn the fundamentals of combat with me."_

_Lan Fan's eyes opened wide with excitement and an uncharacteristically childish grin spread across her face. With all the eagerness of an apprentice ready to prove herself, she launched herself from her place on the ground and joined her Grandfather. She would have embraced him in glee, if not for the fact that she was already so focused on perfecting her stance. And so her lessons began…_

Lan Fan smiled, and knew what she had to do. To practice anything else in this sacred place would seem horribly out of place. Perhaps she had been going about her training all wrong – she had been feeling unbalanced in her very core, and so had pushed herself to the greatest limits of her ability. She could almost hear Grandfather, shaking his head in disapproval: _"Trying to sprint before you can walk is dangerous and unwise."_

She needed to re-root herself in the current moment, instead of getting caught up with her inner emotions. There was a subtle different between all of the advanced training she had pushed herself to do, and the very basics which Grandfather had instilled in her. When one was older and more experienced, training became more fluid – something to thrive and change. When one was learning fundamentals, however, ever move need to absorb the utmost concentration, and be perfectly precise. The center and columns of a mighty building needed to be strong and unbendable so that the rest of the structure could be flexible and remain resilient under pressure. If the center and supporting columns were allowed to fracture, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the structure came down with it.

It was with no small amount of guilt that Lan Fan realized that, what with chasing after the prince, training more specified forms of combat, and organizing the palace guards, she had not spent as much time on basics as she should have.

_No time better than the present,_ she thought with a small smile.

The Fu battle technique was a mixture of all forms, coalesced from centuries of travel, study, and mastery. The idea was that anyone who could master the Fu Family's techniques could adapt to any other style of combat, and thus have a more complete chance of victory.

The first five stances of the art were common and almost universal across all techniques in Xingese combat. From these, different stances, attacks, and blocks could be formed, but they all started with these basic ingredients. She assumed the beginning position, what she often called Stone Stance in her mind, and relived Grandfather's teachings. Legs farther than shoulder width apart, toes faced outward, her thighs found a perfect alignment with the earth beneath her, hands in loose fists by her waist. Closing her eyes, Lan Fan breathed through her stomach, feeling the pulse of the earth's _qi _beneath her, furling with life. She could not be knocked down in this position – in battle it could be used to regain balance after taking a hit, hence why she called it Stone Stance.

With the fluidity of the kind of muscle memory that the body never quite forgets, Lan Fan exhaled and moved into the next positon, what she called River Stance. With her left leg extended behind her, her weight on her bended right leg, she maintained her fists at her side. This was secretly her favorite because she could easily move her body in almost any way she wanted from this stance, choosing the path of least resistance, as water. Her focus centered on keeping her spine straight and at attention. She breathed in, and flowed into the next stance.

Her body shifted into a lower position, releasing her breath as her torso rotated to face frontwards, instead of towards her right knee. Her left leg was still extended, but was much closer to the ground, the soles of her feet completely flat on the grass beneath her. This, she called Snake Stance. This position was essential for floor sweeps and, when done quickly and correctly, could allow her to strike unexpectedly from the ground as a serpent, undetectable and deadly. It also required flexibility and balance, and she had many memories of tipping over when she was first learning. Now, she did not sway as she settled into the familiarity. Breathe in.

Slowly and with control, Lan Fan executed her favorite portion of the fundamental stance routine. Breathe out. The River Stance may have been her favored stationary stance, but the grace of moving from Snake Stance to Wind Stance was too elegant not to love. Pushing her coiled right leg, she switched her center of gravity to her left leg, bending it to be nearly parallel with the ground. Her right leg extended, toes pointed, to barely rest on the ground as she maintained all of her body weight on the leg beneath her. Her arms came up, one poised behind her and raised, the other stretched outward and flat. She dubbed this the Wind Stance in her mind because it had always been the most difficult for her to master, evasive as the wind but just as necessary as air to breath, if she wanted to perfect her fundamentals. Breathe in.

Keeping her left leg and torso completely still, she moved her right leg beneath her, folding it deftly beneath her core and crossing her left leg above it. Sinking into the position, Lan Fan came to the final Blossom Stance. As a child, the poised stance had reminded her more of a flower bud waiting to burst into bloom, so she had named it instead of its potential – the Blossom Stance was tight and compact, and while an enemy might mistake it for a resting position or a weakness, it could be transformed into something unexpected. As Lan Fan felt her _qi _settle into the position and the memories that came with it, she released her final breath.

She could almost hear Grandfather encouraging her efforts, praising her successes, and telling her what she needed to improve upon. This time, she did not even notice the single thin track of salt water that ran down her cheek. Instead, she gathered herself to start again, with the ghost of his words echoing through her.

She flew through the basic forms of martial arts, and then accelerated to more advanced forms, then wove in and out of combinations she made on the spot. She forgot to think because she had to focus on controlling her breath, calming her heart rate, and just letting herself _be. _She lived and pulsed and blossomed that evening as the sun beat down upon Xing. She did not fight imaginary foes, nor did she obsess about shadowy ones lurking in the dark with the intention of assassinating her charge, nor did she pay any heed to the foes within her own emotions.

The only thing she felt was a strange, soothing unraveling, the very undoing of herself as she emptied her soul into her practice. More than a few times she could feel salt water running down her face that was not sweat. Whenever her lungs ached and her muscles brought her down to the Earthly plane of existence by screaming at her, she found that she was in danger of being crushed by the fear of the unknown that moved inside of her. Over time, however, when she faced this unknown, she found that she was only staring at a still pool of blackness within herself – it did not move or threaten. It was only as dangerous as she made it out to be, so she learned to sit by it quietly, watching, and waiting for something to rise out from its depths. During these times, while she was watching and waiting, she found that she could continue to erase herself and join the plane of existence where she was everything and nothing all at once. She simply _was._

When she finally stopped, it was because the red glaze of the sky reminded her of blood and of her duties. Her stances slowed and became more deliberate, until they stopped altogether and left her in the ending position with one knee and her knuckles pressed to the ground, her forehead in repose. Her body was soaked in sweat, her breathing was erratic, her blood was warmed, and her limbs felt numb and heavy. The sun was heading towards the horizon, and the servants would be re-lighting lanterns soon.

Then, unexpectedly in a day otherwise mapped out, she was overcome with the urge to visit Grandfather.

That was how she found herself here, kneeling in respect at the rounded headstone with a hydrangea blossom laid down in offering. She brushed dried twigs and leaves off of his weather-stained bodyguard mask and laid her own beside it with an aching heart. She remembered the first time he had given it to her.

_'This is your mask, Lan Fan," Grandfather informed her, handing her the garment. 'It is both to protect your face and your identity, but the meaning behind it goes deeper.'_

_Young Lan Fan took the mask from him, eyeing it and then his own. _

_'It's different from yours, Grandfather. It's almost opposite.' Lan Fan frowned before thrusting the mask back towards her mentor. 'I don't want it. I want to be exactly like you, Grandfather!'_

_Grandfather laughed his dry laugh, like an ancient Tree Spirit, and laid an affectionate hand on her head. Instead of taking her mask from her, he held his own mask up next to it._

_'Do you see the emblem on the forehead of my mask, Lan Fan?'_

_'Yes. You said it was "yang", the symbol for light and positive _qi.'

_'Indeed I did. When I protect Master Ling and don this mask, I become the embodiment of Yang. What do you notice about your own mask, Lan Fan?'_

_Lan Fan looked. 'Instead of Yang, it has Yin, the symbol of darkness and negative _qi._'_

_Grandfather nodded. 'It does. Lan Fan, the symbols of yin and yang complete each other. On their own, they can be great, but together, they represent the most perfect balance that the world can create.' He gently pushed her mask back towards her. 'I have done my job, but now I need your help. Yang is powerful, but ever more so when it has Yin to balance its weaknesses and fight with it." _

_Grandfather knelt to become level with his granddaughter and put his hand on her small shoulder. 'I need you to be my Yin, Lan Fan. Yang is no longer enough. I need you to be you – just how many Fu's do you think this world can take, eh?' he chuckled. Surprised that he had just made a joke about himself, Lan Fan stared in childish awe for a moment before giggling herself. After a moment of intently serious consideration on her innocent face, she embraced her mask close to her chest._

_'I understand now, Grandfather.' Lan Fan hesitated, shyly taking her Grandfather's hand. But a question weighed on her mind, and she tightened her grip on his hand to draw courage. Somehow, she had a feeling she might not like the answer._

_'Grandfather?'_

_The older man looked down. 'Yes?'_

_'What happens if Yin gets… separated from Yang?' Lan Fan tried not to show how much the question worried her, but she knew her Grandfather. He knew everything. Grandfather, however, only stood, tying his mask into place. Lan Fan followed suit and wondered if she would ever get used to the unfamiliar feeling of concealment the mask offered._

_'The simple answer,' he answered. 'is that Yin and Yang cannot be separated, because they cannot survive without each other.'_

_The little girl sighed, sad at the inevitable thought that, if Yang went away, Yin would be alone forever. She did not know it yet, but she held the heart of a fierce romantic, and the sacrifice that Grandfather described simply did not seem fair. Then again, Grandfather had taught her in a different lesson that often, the world was not fair. _

_'I thought so,' she confirmed in a resigned tone. And that was that._

_That was, until Grandfather continued. 'You must not forget, Lan Fan, that Yin and Yang can be found in more than one place: the balance of Yin and Yang is always within us and in those around us. A good warrior knows not only _how_ to seek the balance, but _when _to do it.'_

_Young Lan Fan looked up at her Grandfather with wide, surprised eyes behind her mask. The older man chuckled at her expression. 'You must remember, Lan Fan; Yin and Yang, dark and light, can never truly die. This is why they cannot be separated – when one form of Yin or Yang extinguishes, another takes its place. It is the way of the universe.'_

Lan Fan, now so much older in more ways than one, traced the smudged outlines of Grandfather's Yang symbol reverently.

"There will never be another Yang like yours, Grandfather." She whispered. Her head bowed by his headstone as breathing became difficult, the pressure behind her eyes increased, and eventually the tears fell. She missed him more than words could express.

She let the tears flow and run themselves dry, allowing herself a few moments of helplessness and grief. These were the darker emotions that belonged to Yin, the emotions that were hidden in the shadows of everyday life. The sorrow that rose up out of that black pool within her was an old acquaintance, too bitter to be called a friend, but familiar nonetheless. Now, Lan Fan felt it surface, and wept that Grandfather was not there to soothe her as he had been wont to do.

Once the tears slowed, however, she wiped their trails away and blinked her brightened eyes. Breathing out slowly, she expelled her melancholy feelings and opted for a tremulous smile. She knew without a doubt that Grandfather would not approve of her being consumed by such emotions on his behalf. He had always told her that a bodyguard's emotions had no place when on duty, so they had to be dealt with in other ways. Often times, he would force her to drink tea and talk with him, even when all she wanted to do was cry herself to sleep or scream at imaginary fiends.

Now that he could no longer drink tea with her, she simply talked.

"A girl arrived at the palace today, Grandfather." She began. "A lady, in fact. I know it is not my place to talk openly about such things, but… she was very kind to me. I told her things I have never told another person so easily in my life, least of all a stranger. She is… special, in a most pure and beautiful way."

Lan Fan frowned, not really knowing how to put her thoughts into words. She could almost hear Grandfather egg her on with a gruff _'So?'_.

"Even though she showed me nothing but sympathy and compassion, I cannot help a feeling of… well, I cannot know what it is, exactly. But I do not like it, and it confuses me. What's more…" The words were coming in a rush now. She couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. "… I overheard from one of the Councilmen that she is the intended bride for the young master. Only, she does not know it yet. She was invited to the palace, but she does not know she's to be… well, courted, I suppose."

Her brow creased, taken aback by the unexpected pang she received when she envisioned the Young Lord and Bilan with the label of 'courting'. She waited for the pang to subside as she grew accustomed to the idea, but it did not. She did not.

The young warrior sighed and bowed to touch her forehead to the ground in front of her Grandfather's tombstone.

"Grandfather, if you can hear me, please help me. I feel that the only thing that will make me understand anything now is your guidance. Please… Yin has been exhausted, and only Yang can shed light and restore what is missing."

Her plea was met with silence. Even the playful wind had stilled as the sun, the highest incarnation of Yang_, _crept toward the skyline. Lan Fan sighed again, not realizing that she had actually expected an answer until she felt more alone than ever.

_Is this punishment? I was not there to help him in the face of danger, and now Grandfather's life – _

Lan Fan stopped the blameful thought in its tracks. She refused to taint Grandfather's memory and resting place with such thoughts. His decision had been his own, and it had been noble, driven by honor. She would not turn it into chance circumstance driven by her own shortcomings.

Instead, she raised herself and retrieved her mask from where it lay next to its twin.

"Rest well, Grandfather. I should return now." She said to the silence. The sun was more than halfway gone, leaving the vibrant color of dusk to settle over Xing. "But thank you for listening. I will try my best to follow the teachings you have already given me. I hope to pass them on to my own apprentices someday."

Just as she stood, Lan Fan heard her name being called. Turning, she smiled at the approaching figure of Makanay. The red-haired woman waved. With a last bow to her Grandfather, Lan Fan turned and left to meet her friend at the entrance of the cemetery.

Lan Fan was silent for a moment, trying to calculate the most casual way of asking after the Young Lord. Of course, Makanay beat her to the point with her blunt perceptiveness.

"The prince decided to retire early. I handed him off to a sentry once he entered his rooms." She chuckled. "He's probably ordering a servant to bring him more food."

The dark haired girl smiled, but did not reply. Her silence prompted a sideways glance from her friend. After several steps of quiet, Makanay sighed with something that seemed like frustration.

"Lan Fan, stop." She took hold of Lan Fan's shoulder, turning her to face her serious gaze. Lan Fan raised her eyebrows, wondering what had prompted such concern in her friend. Makanay looked at her steadily. "I realize that none of this is my business, and partially I blame my own damned curiosity, but… I am a little worried."

Lan Fan's eyebrows rose further as she tried for an innocent expression. Makanay rolled her eyes, prompted to continue.

"Come on, Lan Fan. Skipping an entire day of watching your beloved prince? Disappearing for hours without letting any of the palace guards know where you were?" Lan Fan tensed, as if suddenly remembering the duties of her position, and flushed with something like shame. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and emotions that she had not even thought about telling someone that she was going into the forest. Makanay, of course, noticed.

"What, did you think I wouldn't notice?" The older woman crossed her arms. "All of the palace guards know that you can take care of yourself, Lan Fan. That isn't the question. But I do not think you realize how important you are in this place. You are perhaps our most skilled fighting here." She paused. "Besides myself, of course."

Lan Fan started, both at the compliment and at the sudden humor. She let out a broken little laugh, and could think of nothing better to do than to bow her head.

"Truly, I apologize, Makanay. It was not my intention to make you worry."

Makanay grunted and began walking again, and Lan Fan smiled secretively. She knew that the foreign woman still felt uncomfortable with the way Xingese people expressed respect, gratitude, apology, or otherwise… but she was glad that the woman cared.

"Ah, stop your groveling and walk with me back to the palace," the woman ordered over her shoulder. The tension of the earlier moment was forgotten, and Lan Fan's mistakes forgiven – for the time being at least. She smiled bigger now, glad to have such a person to rely on, and jogged a little to catch up with Makanay. The woman walked with her shoulders back, hands clasped behind her back, and chin up as if she were royalty. She looked at Lan Fan from the corner of her eye.

"But you know…" she started again. "I think it would be well advised to go say the same apology to your precious master." Something in her expression softened in a knowing way. "He's been tied up in knots all day worrying about you."

Lan Fan's blush immediately returned and something squirmed in her stomach. "W-what?"

Makanay ignored her. "Of course, he tried to hide it, but he did a piss poor job of it, in my opinion. That lady he had with him probably didn't noticed because she doesn't have experience with such things, but there weren't five minutes that passed without him looking for you in the shadows."

The heat in her blush was instantly chilled, and Lan Fan felt a little sick from the fast change. "He had… a lady with him?"

Cocking an eyebrow in her direction, Makanay nodded. "Yeah. Bay-lan, or some such."

"_Bee_-lan." Lan Fan corrected absentmindedly. It was only after she said it that she groaned at her careless mistake.

As if on cue, Makanay's eyebrows rose further in feigned surprise. "Oh! So you know of her, do you? My… how convenient that the very day Prince Ling spends a day with a lady sweet as damn _lashnak_ is the day that you make yourself so scarce that not even _I _can dredge up information of where you've been." Lan Fan gulped under the pressure of steely eyes. Though Lan Fan had the insane urge to ask what '_lashnak'_ was, she held her tongue.

_I have the feeling that your grandfather would be proud of you_.

Lan Fan pursed her lips at Bilan's heartfelt words, reminded once more of how impossibly, wonderfully, painfully kind the girl was. She was also reminded once more of the horrid, _confusing, _instinctive whisper that said '_I could never be that good'. _This feeling of worthlessness. Of powerlessness. Her visits to the clearing and Grandather's grave had soothed much of the pain that was inside of her, but the fact remained that she still did not understand it. An enemy that one did not understand was one who was impossible to defeat.

"Lan Fan." When Makanay said her name again, it was with a more resigned look. "I promised myself I would never again bother with relationships above my station, but you and the prince seem very… close." Makanay's light colored eyes seemed to search her companion's face, but Lan Fan only looked away and pretended that her neck was not getting warm. "So I'll ask this once and once only – how _exactly _do you feel about the prince?"

"He is my master and friend, and I will protect him in any way I can to make sure he acquires the throne," Lan Fan's response came with no hesitation. She was actually a little surprised herself as to how immediate the answer had been, but she realized it was true. It made her feel a little better actually – like she knew where she stood now. Where she stood was where-ever her master needed her to stand, for as long as she could be of service to him. Lan Fan fiddled with the mechanism that would retract the blade that extended from her automail elbow, making her left arm less dangerous.

Such was the way things always would be.

On the other hand, this did not seem to be what Makanay was looking for. When Lan Fan darted a glance at her friend, the foreign warrior had pursed her lips. Instead of saying anything else on the subject, however, she was true to her word. Makanay asked no more, and simply nodded tersely.

In a moment, they had arrived at the servant's entrance to the palace, with the sun sinking ever lower beyond the horizon. Makanay rolled her shoulders.

"Well, I'm beat. Had to babysit lordlings and their butterflies all day – you have no idea how mundane it gets." She griped mockingly. She gave another queer smile at Lan Fan before patting her on the shoulder. "I'll head to the quarters, then. Surely you want to go to the kitchens to get something to eat?"

Lan Fan recognized a veiled command when she heard one. Though Lan Fan technically outranked Makanay by being the personal guard of the future Emperor, the older woman still tended to look after her regardless. Lan Fan did not mind – in fact, it was a warm reminder of how nice it was to have someone looking after her, like Grandfather had once done. Besides, she _was _famished.

"Of course." Lan Fan smiled. Makanay waved one last time, leaving Lan Fan alone to her thoughts. She began walking in the opposite direction.

Such was why she never heard Makanay as the strange warrior sighed to herself.

"If that's what you want to tell yourself, youngling…" she muttered, thinking of the younger girl's response to her question. _He is my master and friend. _ "… then maybe this was all for the better. After all," she smiled bitterly and touched her eye patch. "I wouldn't want you to end up like me."

The guardswoman shoved her hands in her pockets, and whistled a lonely tune from her home land. Idly, she realized that she craved some sweet, sticky _lashnak._

* * *

**If anyone has any confusion, questions, or suggestions about any of the cultural tidbits in this chapter, I recommend you read the author note at the beginning of the chapter and/or review about it! If I got anything wrong or if anything is offensive, please let me know! **


	6. The Demons We Share

**Hello all! First off, my apologies for dropping off the face of the earth. My only excuse is the one that every author uses: Life. These last two months had me in a death grip, but I should be able to post at least two solid chapters in the relatively calm month of April. After that, there's studying for exams, and then the actual exams in May, so no promises until summer.**

**The original plan for this chapter would have made it about 4,000 words longer, but it was getting really difficult to write, and I figured I had neglected updating for long enough. **

**Edits are still in progress, so if you catch anything, 50 points to you and big thank you from me!**

**My thanks again to the following reviewers:**

**MandereLee: Your review still makes me smile. XD Truly the best gift a reader can give an author. Sorry the update took so long, but I hope you enjoy it! **

**leena1445: Thank you, again, for the cultural feedback - and for the support! **

**Ice Maiden Olivier: And I'm glad that you're glad that Lan Fan has someone to care for her! ;P You see some more of that in this chapter - tell me what you think of it!**

**Dotdodot: As always, your feedback is courage-boosting and gives me fuzzies. :) I combed my chapter as per your advice, and I think I caught the remaining mistakes. (Time will tell, I guess). In answer to your question, I assume you're asking why Lan Fan trained as a young girl at the palace. That's a really good question - one that I don't have a very good answer for. I guess the only real answer is that Lan Fan did train on the Yao lands, but her Grandfather found her a secretive place to train when they were staying with the prince at the palace as well. I suppose, if you want to think of it this way, that the clearing I depict is a little piece of home in the midst of all the court politics. The other answer is that I was just taking artistic license. :)**

**Finally, a note to all: It has not escaped my attention that the reader rates for this story decrease dramatically after the first few chapters. If you're still with me and thinking about leaving, tell me why! I'll see what I can do about it. :)**

* * *

Lan Fan ended up taking the route she knew would lead her to the kitchens, with the intention to drop a dumpling off by the young lord's room later and see how he was. She had placed her normal hunger and thirst on the back burner for the day, and now it was returning full-force. Temptation whispered silkily to her as she licked her lips at the thought of all the food preparation she knew must be going on for the feast. Perhaps she could coerce one of the palace guards from this morning into sneaking her some food – after all, they were still "in the dog house", as the Amestrian saying went, for letting the young lord escape his room so easily.

In the nearly empty halls of the palace where only the odd servant could be seen bustling, Lan Fan attempted to rub her stiff shoulders. She paid special attention to the kinks above her automail arm, but her efforts seemed to do little good. Her body was beginning to ache all over, as if it was berating her for her tireless training.

_As the Young Lord's only prime bodyguard, I have to be sharper than ever. There's no Grandfather to guide me._

Lan Fan's glove-clad hands continued to rub her shoulders rather ineffectively. A wistful smile turned up her lips as her thoughts went back to Grandfather. He was the one who used to massage her shoulders after intense training or battle, lecturing her on the necessity of always staying limber. There were times, however, that he would simply begin kneading the knots away in her tense muscles, despite the aches he would get in his hands, just to let his granddaughter know that he cared. Though they never spoke about these times, Lan Fan knew that he had always wanted her to feel supported – even if his nature as a warrior barred him from saying so with words. Something in her ached in a way that her muscles did not as she wished that she had realized this more when he was still alive.

Soundlessly, her flesh hand fell to her side as she brought its automail counterpart to her eyes for inspection.

_It's surprising how much I still miss him._

Lan Fan's stomach yowled louder this time, jarring her more sober line of though and actually making her blush. After a quick glance to ensure she was alone, she allowed herself a small chuckle and rubbed her abdomen.

"Enough out of you," she berated. "Just what do you think Grandfather would say if we were trying to hide and you spoke so loudly?" She could feel small, almost petulant gurgles sifting around, but for the most part, it settled. Lan Fan snorted at herself, and decided to make her way to the kitchens as quickly as possible.

Preparing to break into a sprint, the young bodyguard was about to turn a corner when her foot landed on something soft and warm. A split second before she looked down, she felt and recognized the familiar _qi _presence.

"Young Lord!"Lan Fan shrieked in dismay and quickly backed off her young master. Kneeling beside him anxiously, she tried to see if he was conscious.

"What are you doing on the floor? Were you attacked!?" she questioned in slight panic, hands fluttering uselessly. Regret, panic, and foreboding made her stomach churn in a whole new way.

_I knew I should not have left him alone! Now he's hurt and it's all my fault! I shouldn't have been so selfish as to shirk my duties! What if he's poisoned!?_

She could not sense the sluggishness of death in his _qi, _but it could be slow moving poison.

A small sound emanated from Ling's otherwise still body, and Lan Fan immediately held her breath and bent low to hear better.

"_Food…"_ the young man ground out weakly.

Food.

He was hungry.

Instantly, all anxiety flooded out of Lan Fan's system, taking her breath with it. In a moment, she felt torn between laughing at herself and being irritated with the Young Lord for making her so worried.

_Worry gives small things big shadows. _

With a sigh, she decided to put both reactions on hold as she slung her master's arm around her shoulder. With little trouble she was able to stand and support his weight, which he made no move to lighten for her. Craning her head around her, Lan Fan assessed their position in the palace and tried to decide where to go. Since they were in the east wing, the prince's personal chambers would be the closest. She could drop him off there and get him some food as soon as he was not stranded in some deserted corridor of the palace.

As Lan Fan assessed her options, her grasp on Ling's arm began to slowly slip. Consequently, he was getting closer and closer to resuming his previous spot.

"My Lord, do you think you could – _gah!"_

With a melodramatic _whump_ing noise, Ling slumped down the last foot or two to return to his original position on the ground. For a moment, Lan Fan just stared down at him with speechlessness and watched his royal robes get wrinkled.

Then, inevitably a small smile stole over her features and her eyes softened. Gently this time, and with more care, she bent down and slid her master's firm body to be supported over her own.

_What am I going to do with you?_

Lan Fan trekked to the young master's chambers with her charge – literally – in tow, not pausing to think on the fondness which had settled over her heart.

* * *

On his bed in his chamber, Ling stirred as if trying to fight against the sharp emptiness in his stomach.

"Food…"

He squinted and sat up, hand to his head – which had begun to ache vaguely from the lack of nourishment – and wondered what had roused him. The answer was instantaneous – a tray heaped with sticky rice balls, steaming tea, and pork was only feet away from his olfactory senses. Ling's mouth watered, and he wasted no time digging in.

The second the slightly salty rice hit his tongue, Ling felt the satisfaction of what can only be defined as divine enlightenment. Ravenously, he made two rice balls disappear in as many minutes, only then pausing to take note of his surroundings a little more. After all, he did not remember being in his rooms – he remembered _telling_ Makanay that he would stay in his rooms, and promptly going to wander the palace with a restless mind. He remembered the trek to the library, which just so happened to intersect the soldier's training grounds along the way… and he remembered heading back to his rooms after decidedly not finding whatever it was he was looking for. He had not really even realized that he was hungry, but he hadn't eaten since lunch with Bilan.

Scooping a bite of pork and cabbage, Ling was brought again to the curiosity of how he had somehow made it to his rooms – with a full meal laid out in front of him, no less. Pouring himself a cup of tea and sitting back, Ling's answer came to him as a piece of parchment peeked out from where the cup had previously been resting.

Snatching up the paper written in crude charcoal, but with a careful hand, Ling could not contain a slow smile and warmth that had nothing to do with the food.

_You should be more careful, my lord. It may not always be me who finds you sprawled gracelessly in an empty palace hall._

Ling read it a second and third time, before finally snorting out a round of full laughter and tucking he note safely in his robes.

"And yet, you always do." He answered to the air. The young prince took a contended sip of his warm tea, which tasted sweeter than he remembered it. Lan Fan must have remembered how to brew it _just _the way he liked it. He could not say he was surprised – she was perfect, after all.

That thought stilled his smile and made him pause again in eating. _Perfect?_

The flash of Bilan's smile came to his mind, accompanied by her shining eyes as she told him her story this evening. Sighing, Ling set down his tea once again, appetite ebbing away for more reasons than one.

_How can two people be so perfect in such completely different ways?_

Bilan was obviously the ideal woman for any Xing politician, perhaps more so for a future Emperor. She was charismatic, kind, and understood the ways of the people. Not only did she have a solid grasp on how to conduct herself in upper circles – despite her denials on that point – she also knew how to inspire passion and loyalty in his subjects. She was like sunlight that the people could not help but lean towards for nourishment and hope, a beacon to a new era in Xing.

Then, if Bilan was the sun, Lan Fan was the moon. Ling's mouth crooked upward as he thought of Lan Fan's supremacy in the shadows; her passion which extended itself through her combat rather than through words. Lan Fan was much more quiet than Bilan, and perhaps more difficult to understand, but to him… she was majestic in a way that needed no title.

Ling sucked air through his teeth sharply and shook the dual images from his mind. What was he thinking? Anyone else would have thought that he was… _comparing_ the two women in his mind, like a cook trying to decide what fruit to prepare. That certainly had _not _been what he was doing, because there was no reason to. After all, Bilan and Lan Fan were on completely separate planes of existence! Not that he was saying that one was any higher than the other, or anything -

Frustrated with his new train of thought, Ling blew the air forcefully back through his nose, raking a hand through his hair. He stood away from the remains of his food, heading to the door to do some more walking – a pastime he seemed to be indulging in more and more often.

As soon as he opened the door, however, he realized something was off. Perhaps not _wrong_, but the _qi _he sensed was one that he had not been exposed to for over twelve hours. And it was c_lose. _

Surprised, Ling glanced around, and immediately caught sight of a bundled body stationed by his door. The quirk returning to his lips, he crouched down to inspect it and sure enough – Lan Fan.

She was also completely unconscious, head resting on one shoulder, mouth parted and mask cradled in her arms. Ling sat there for some time, unsure of why but simply knowing that he wanted to drink this in as much as possible. He could count the number of times he had seen Lan Fan in this kind of deep, unaware sleep on one hand. Without her eyes flashing in concentration behind her mask, and with such a youthful calm in her features, Ling almost had a hard time believing his eyes.

It was difficult to remember what his closest friend and bodyguard had been through, when he saw her like this. Of course, he knew he should probably reprimand her for falling asleep so deeply and unashamedly while she was at her post – after a day of not guarding him, no less – but he disregarded the thought as soon as it entered his mind. Lan Fan did a fine job of keeping things to herself, but he knew she had not been sleeping even a fraction of what she should be. Briefly, he wondered if she suffered from the same demons in the dark as he did.

As if on cue, Lan Fan tensed and her brow puckered in her sleep. Ling also tensed, for a completely different reason, but the girl stayed asleep. Her hands tightened around her mask and her mouth formed the grim line of combat concentration which he knew all too well. Her breathing was coming shorter now, and Ling knew that his suspicions about her sleep patterns were at least partially correct.

Without another thought, he reached out a hand and softly – so as not to wake her – smoothed her hair from her troubled brow. The inky black strands were silkier than he thought they would have been, and her skin was smooth and slightly damp with perspiration. Under his touch, Lan Fan shifted slightly, but seemed to calm some. Unconsciously, she pressed her face into his palm, causing his breath to hitch and heart to stutter for reasons he did not want to acknowledge. Though her eyebrows were no longer knit, Ling was alarmed when he felt a single tear leak from a closed eyelid.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the visions in her head. Ling felt something ache in his chest, and slowly retracted his hand. He could only imagine the things and people she would be saying those simple words to.

Carefully, as if she was bound to fall apart, Ling scooped his sleeping friend in his arms. He waited until she had settled against his chest, curled slightly inward and breathing steadily. In that moment, Ling stared at her, feeling inexplicably but undeniably awe-struck – after all, how could she be so seem so powerless and hold so much power over his life at the same time?

With a heartfelt sigh, he began a steady trek to the soldier's rooms, unwittingly following in Lan Fan's footsteps from only hours before.

"I'm sorry too, Lan Fan."

* * *

_This dream always started out the same. She was sitting atop a building in Amestris with the young master not far from her. The day was setting into night, and the atmosphere was a rare kind of peaceful. Grandfather came up beside her and she felt… complete. _

_Suddenly, however, the energy around her started to change. It was an uncomfortable feeling, as if people were just emerging out of nowhere or everywhere, and she could see none of them. With uneasy concentration, Lan Fan realized that they were all congregating behind her, as if to sneak up on her defenses. Whirling, believing that she had caught them at their own game, Lan Fan turned to meet the army – only to find her Grandfather, all alone. _

_The _ qi_ continued to multiply, however, to the point where she almost felt suffocated by its proximity and power. She was ashamed of how much her voice shook as she asked fearfully:_

"Grandfather…?"

_In horror, she watched as a monster in her Grandfather's skin ripped away the Yin mask which had always comforted her. Grandfather's face was there, indeed, but also not there – the eyes were wrong and hateful, and the teeth were pulled back in a wolfish grimace that made Lan Fan feel sick. Even as she watched, his visage began to distort into something grotesque and non-human, as if he was simply a mirage in a demon's desert. With skin mottling a dark green-black and eyes growing more and more evil by the second, he looked less like her Grandfather than a monster of disproportionate size._

_"Foolish human. Your Grandfather was weak and now he is dead," Envy hissed. "And soon it will be your turn!"_

_Lan Fan felt the urge to scream press against her teeth, but she gritted them and pressed her mouth into a grim, trained line. Even so, the _qi_ energy was pressing in on her, poisoning her own energy and making her feel violated in the deepest sense of the word. She practically choked on it, stumbling away from the monster before her, closer and closer to the edge of the building as the sky bled red and the sun deserted her and she was _falling –

– _ a pair of strong arms stopped her descent in the nick of time, but Lan Fan felt anything but gratitude. Her horror multiplied as the souls screamed at her from both behind and before her. Over her shoulder, just above her ear, in a sickeningly familiar and foreign voice, a growl tickled. _

_"Careful, doll. Wouldn't want to end the fun before it even begins."_

_The young master – no, Greed – snarled at her with a sadistic glint in his eyes before his carbonized claws pierced her skin with abrupt, excruciating pain. Lan Fan's head snapped back and her eyes clutched tight – in her head she was screaming, but still her jaw remained locked. _

_So real. It feels so _real. _Just make it STOP!_

_As if in answer to her plea, the pain dissipated long enough for her to pant and crack open an eye. What she saw made her regret it. Her own face was distorted now, above her own, with nothing but soulless black eyes. Her demon stared at her with hatred and looked about ready to spit. Lan Fan could not help but register the kunai she held, but Greed was still trapping her with the strength of the one she revered so highly. The demon drew back her hand with a triumphant glint in her eye._

_"Pathetic."_

_The kunai came down on her arm – her left arm, which she just realized had been flesh once more – and Lan Fan was tossed into a roiling sea of blood and pain and, as Envy opened his massive jaws –_

_ – darkness. _

_As if snuffed out by a candle, the pain disappeared. Lan Fan felt relief now, and felt comforted for some reason. Looking down, she saw her automail hand, and felt more grounded for it. _

_Her relief was short lived, however, as a new kind of oppressiveness set in on her. She was waiting, waiting, waiting for something – anything – in the darkness. Her senses were on high alert, and she strained her _qi_ in the darkness, willing it to find something to come into contact with. Not even the earth pulsed with energy – the blackness around her was dead and unfeeling._

_Without warning, eyes – mismatched eyes, with symbols glowing red within their depths – began to appear all around her, malicious and mocking. Desperately now, feeling panic well within her at the primal glare of all those eyes, she looked around for any familiar face. Even now, she felt no _qi _but her own… she could only see the eyes. _

_"Who are you?" she asked the darkness._

_All at once, the eyes swarmed around her and congealed, meshing into one tangible being before her very eyes. As the eyes settled and turned into flesh, hair, and clothing, only one pair of eyes remained. They looked at her steadily, and with deep emotion._

_"Grandfather," she gasped. _

_He declined his head in acknowledgment, looking ashamed to meet her eyes. This was him then… not some crude distortion made by Envy. _

_This only made the disappointment in his eyes the more real. Slowly, as if through a cloud, Lan Fan reached out her hand, suddenly gripped with fear. A moment too late, she realized what was happening._

_No..._

_In the next moment, an invisible sword slashed against Grandfather's midsection, spraying his blood and freezing his face with shock._

_Not again!_

_Another sword burst from his chest, and he began to fall. His eyes never moved once from hers, and they held nothing but pain and betrayal, accusing her. When she finally cried out, straining every nerve of her body to _reach him_, his form blurred and morphed. In a moment, instead of a bodyguard's armor, he wore his favorite yellow traveling cloak, and the blood had disappeared. Instead of dignified white, he wore unruly black hair and a sad smile._

_NO! _

_Again, just as in reality, she was powerless as the ones who mattered to her most went beyond her reach. Her Grandfather to death and blood, and her master… _

_… as she watched, milky white hands crept around the young lord's chest and pulled him further into the darkness. His eyes, too, never left hers. _

_What surprised her was that they were not filled with the scorn she would expect… but only with pain. With equal slowness, he stretched out his arm to hers, as if attempting to reach her, but the feminine hands around him tugged him back in the shadows. His eyes seemed to speak more than his words ever could._

You could never be good enough.

_He dissolved completely, leaving her again to fend the darkness of her confines on her own. Grandfather and the man who held her loyalty had been consumed, and she had only watched. With fisted hands she howled at the darkness, hearing her cries of pain and frustration consumed by nothing… nothing, but uncaring blackness. The pain slithered in her throat as soon as her anger died, and she felt herself crumple. A fine warrior she turned out to be._

_A single tear escaped her as she clutched her head in her hands, resigned shudders wracking her body with grief and loneliness._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered to the people she could not reach._

_The darkness wrapped itself around her, feeling like the warmth of another body next to hers, suddenly comforting rather than hostile. The ache in her heart was soothed for no other reason than that she did not feel quite as alone. Lan Fan sighed, only barely hearing the words that echoed through the darkness._

_"I'm sorry too, Lan Fan."_

* * *

Lan Fan woke with a start, heart pounding, inky blackness still fresh in her mind's eye and oozing itself out of her pores through a cold sweat. Tense, her eyes darted around the room, panic consuming her when she did not immediately recognize her surroundings.

A snore from her right caught her attention, and in the moonlight she caught a glimpse of auburn hair. In a moment, all of the memories came flooding back, and she sagged into her sleeping mat with relief. Makanay slept on, unaware that she had provided Lan Fan with comfort even when unconscious. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of clean air which was not permeated with the fears of her mind.

_I am not in Amestris. The young lord is safe in his bed. _She did not allow herself to think of her arm, or her Grandfather.

Her peace was short-lived, however. In the next moment, Lan Fan sat up abruptly, thin blanket clutched to her chest – which was dressed only in a loose shirt, and no bindings. Panic again made her thoughts scramble when she searched her memory to find nothing. _How had she gotten back to bed?_

As if sensing her distress – which was a very real possibility, as her body language stuck out like a sore thumb in the dead of night – her roommate groaned and turned on her side. Lan Fan held her breath, but secretly wished she would come to awareness, if only so that Lan Fan could get some answers.

She wondered if she should rethink that wish as soon as Makanay cracked open her single eye with rather intense glare for someone just waking.

"What is it?" Makanay demanded in a no-nonsense whisper. She obviously understood that Lan Fan was distressed about something – and that she was not likely to get rest unless the girl was soothed.

Lan Fan swallowed and wanted to hide with embarrassment, feeling like a little girl who had got caught trying to sneak into her parents' bed.

"Well… I just…"

"Don't know how you got here, hm?" Makanay intoned with irate archness. She propped her head on her elbow and stared Lan Fan down. "I suppose that's understandable when a person falls asleep at her post."

Lan Fan's eyes widened and her jaw grew slack. "I _what?"_

"Even more so when that person then gets taken from her post, dead asleep, to her rooms, by the very person she was assigned to guard." She did not bother 'correcting' herself the third time.

The girl's face burned with mortification, and she hid her face in her hands with a groan. There were no words she could have found to possibly express herself. Not only had she abandoned her post and _endangered_ the young lord's life, she had even had to be taken to her rooms _by _the prince himself? The sinking feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with the fact that she had still ended up eating very little the previous day. Detachedly, she realized that she had been planning to grab a bite to eat after she had finished her shift guarding her charge… only she had fallen asleep before she could do so.

She wished the gods above would take notice of her _intolerable _folly and strike her down where she sat. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she would be damned to the demon's fires and would not have to face her Grandfather in the afterlife.

From inside the confines of her hands, Lan Fan heard a resigned sigh and the shuffle of sheets before she felt the unexpected warmth of an arm draped around her shoulders.

"It really isn't all that bad, kid," Makanay consoled. Lan Fan did not come out of her hiding. "If it helps, the prince only handed you off to me – I was in the room by then. He gave me an explanation and skedaddled off to his rooms like a _tandarfut_ in the spring." Lan Fan made no move to ask what a _tandarfut _was, nor did she relax at Makanay's attempt at levity. The older woman sighed.

"Look, I won't be the one to tell you that everything is alright – because it is not." Gently, she took Lan Fan's shoulder and eased her upwards until they were face to face. "But perhaps not for the reasons you think."

At this, Lan Fan finally reacted, creasing her brow in confusion. There was no discrepancy of reason – she had _fallen asleep at her post. _The additional humiliation of being so unaware that she had to be taken to bed by her master was even worse! She fully expected to be told to pack her things and leave the palace in the morning. If she was not, she would likely do so on her own out of sheer shame and dishonor.

Apparently reading her thoughts, Makanay rolled her eyes. "Lan Fan, you are _not _the first body guard to ever fall asleep when she should not have, and you just as surely will not be the last. _That _is not truly the problem here." With solemnity, she made sure Lan Fan understood her. "The problem is that this is no simple case of exhaustion. You are mentally _tormenting_ yourself, and you have to stop!"

Lan Fan only blinked and looked away uncomfortably. Tormenting? Why should she torment herself? It certainly did not serve any purpose in making her a better guardswoman to the young lord.

Yet, Makanay's accusation settled with disconcerting weigh on her mind – somehow, it felt like it was true, although Lan Fan knew it should not be. There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of insects outside, in which Makanay seemed to debate what her next words should be.

"I _know _you have nightmares, Lan Fan," she said finally, softly. The woman eyed her companion with a mixture of pity and sympathy. Lan Fan's attention was brought to Makanay's ever-present eyepatch. Perhaps not sympathy, then… but empathy. "Gods above know that after what you have been through, they are warranted."

She grimaced, biting her lip – more as a nervous habit than to keep herself from saying anything. After all, what does someone say to something like that? It was not an accusation; it was simply a statement, and she could do nothing to honestly deny it.

"The only thing I can tell you is this." Makanay smoothed Lan Fan's matted hair away from her face in a rare display of motherly affection. The action surprised Lan Fan enough to make her meet her eye. Once she did, she could not look away from the intensity of Makanay's gaze and the earnestness of her emotion. "The more you mourn the past, the more powerless you will be to the trials of the future."

Lan Fan frowned and she looked down.

" And I am _not _talking about your Grandfather, Lan Fan," her tired gaze waited for the girl's dark eyes to flick back up in surprise. "You feel that you did not fulfill your duty, correct?"

Hesitantly, Lan Fan gave a small nod. Makanay shrugged slightly.

"Whether or not you really did, I cannot say. The only think I know is, you are perhaps the most talented and disciplined person I have ever met, with skill that is only outmatched by _fierce_ loyalty." Makanay's gaze did not speak of flattery. Instead, she was deathly serious. "That is not a combination found in many people, let alone the _right _people. Of all the warriors in this nation, Lan Fan, you were _made _to protect royalty – that is a fact."

When Lan Fan opened her mouth the object, Makanay shook her head.

"If a bodyguard of such caliber is distracted the point of abandoning her post, both consciously and unconsciously, it is clear that _something_ has shifted to bring that spirit to its breaking point. Only one thing has changed in the last twenty-four hours, Lan Fan, and I think you know her name."

Lan Fan flushed anew with shame, feeling as though she was caught red-handed. She could not bring herself to meet Makanay's eyes. Another tense moment of silence, and Makanay's arm slipped from her shoulders. Lan Fan's tense shoulders stiffened further at the loss of warmth, but made no move to protest.

The next words were soft, almost vulnerable, and Lan Fan could not have been caught more off guard. "You do not think you deserve him, do you." It was a statement, not a question.

She blinked. "What?"

Makanay watched her with stubborn patience. _You know of whom I speak, _the look said.

Lan Fan struggled through her new confusion and the odd warmth that swirled from her chest. "Well… after tonight, certainly I do not deserve to – "

"_Lan Fan,"_ Makanay huffed, exasperated. "You _know _I am not speaking about your duties."

"Then of what do you speak?" Lan Fan asked heatedly. She edged away from Makanay, if only to get a more head-on look of the woman. The warmth in her chest was quickly expanding into some unreasonably defensive anger, and she was disturbed at both herself and at Makanay's implication. "What other way is there for me to _deserve _him, Makanay? Answer me that."

Her patient gaze had turned harder. "I can see you want to make this as difficult as possible. Fine, then – I will be as blunt as possible." She took a deep breath, as if readying herself. Lan Fan, in turn, felt like a coil prepared to spring into action. "How long have you been serving the prince?"

Lan Fan's jaw twitched at the unexpected question. What game was she playing? "You know very well how long."

Makanay gave her a long-suffering look. "Indulge me."

"Ever since I was old enough to protect myself." At Makanay's continued look, she grunted. "Perhaps since I was… seven?"

She nodded. "And how long has it been since you considered this protection a simple duty, or a chore?"

Lan Fan instantly drew breath to say that it has _always _been her duty, but Makanay's stern gaze made her pause. The other would accept nothing less than absolute truth. Tentatively, she thought back. When she was a younger girl, barely a year into her new title as guardian, she was not always attentive at her duties – she would daydream or imagine she was someone else, able to do something else than protect a meddling boy who always got himself into trouble. She could not exactly pinpoint when she began pouring her entire soul into protecting him, but Makanay's words reminded her that there was a time when she did not feel that way. Lan Fan felt slightly disturbed at the reminder, looking back into her memories and feeling as if she was looking at a completely different person.

"I suppose… ever since I saw how much the young lord cares about his people. Truly cares, not just for his own popularity." One distinct memory resurfaced. It had been the day of the Recognition Ceremony, where the young lord was officially appointed the heir of the Yao clan. After the festivities, he had run off to get away from the crowd, and she had been forced to follow. Along the way, they had come across a boy at least five years older than themselves abusing another boy their age. They were not of their status, and sibling rivalry was common, so Lan Fan had been inclined to turn her head the other way… her lips pursed at the memory of her own cowardliness. The young lord, on the other hand, had promptly thrown himself straight into the line of fire, of course obliging Lan Fan to protect him. The older boy had dealt him a punch and dirtied his ceremonial robes before she could get him to back down. She had been peeved with him, at first, but then she saw how little attention he was giving to his split lip and finery, and how he tenderly felt around the younger boy's limbs for broken bones. He had gained more than one loyal subject on that day. Lan Fan had felt in herself the stirrings of deep respect, and from that time onward, she had striven to be a worthy guardian of a prince so naturally _noble. _He was different than the others, who only gave when they saw reward in the future. That trait had not changed with age, and neither had her feelings.

Makanay was watching her carefully, as if reading her inward struggle, even as Lan Fan remained impassive. "If you think dutiful respect is the only thing that has kept you so loyal for so long, you are dull." She leaned back, reclining once more on her matt. There was a shrewd glitter in her eye as she smirked. "But you are not dull. Are you, Lan Fan?"

The girl swallowed thickly and recalled a blond-haired man in a tunnel observing the amount of care she had for her master. She had easily eluded the comment then, in the chaos of the battle. There was no such distraction now.

"I never took you for such a romantic, Makanay," she croaked. Immediately, she knew that if her aim had been to somehow win this philosophical discourse about love – or whatever it was – that had not been the right thing to say.

Makanay snorted derisively. "Lan Fan, if ever I had a single romantic bone in my body, they were all broken before I ever stepped foot in Xing. I am simply stating facts." At Lan Fan's blank look, she shrugged. "Love is not so much different from any other emotion. When someone loses a bet, she feels anger. When someone loses a family member, she feels grief. When someone values another above herself, not out of duty but out of choice, she is in love.

"The difference about love is that it can be so much stronger… and so much more dangerous. It is so much like fire." Makanay's single eye glazed, as if she were looking inward, and Lan Fan wondered if she was speaking for her benefit anymore. "We cannot live without it, but if you give it a single _speck _of power outside of your control, it can burn more deeply than a branding iron."

"Then how can you ask me to accept something like that?" Lan Fan blurted. She wanted to take the hasty, desperate words back as soon as she said them – they felt like a confession. Instead, they dropped like stones in the silence between them, and Makanay's attention was restored. She smiled a sad smile.

"Simply because you have no choice. It is there, whether you want it to be or not," she sighed. So serious was the set of her features that the two could have been discussing the nature of death, rather than of love. "Lan Fan, the only thing more dangerous than love, is the _denial _of love. To deny love is to lie to yourself in the most fundamental way possible. It is so divide your soul upon itself – I have seen it destroy greater people than you or I." Lan Fan found herself believing her; the look of remorse in her eyes was one she well understood. In a moment, the glimpse was covered again, and Makanay settled herself more firmly on the ground, a solid set in her jaw. "Whatever consequences come from admitting love, they cannot compare to the civil war of refusing it."

She said nothing after that, and the minutes ticked by like hours. Lan Fan waited, feeling as though Makanay had one more grenade tucked up her sleeve, just itching to deploy and catcher her off guard. When the insects outside continued to be the only ones chatting merrily and Lan Fan still had not situated herself to return to sleep, Makanay let out a deep sigh.

"Look, Lan Fan… I do not expect you to accept your feelings in one night." Immediately, she wanted to protest the assumption that she had feelings to begin with, but the words stuck to the roof of her mouth like lies. "My only point is that… well, perhaps it would not be so bad if you fell in love with your prince. Me, of all people," she scoffed to herself. "If it means choosing between the silent suffering of never knowing, and the chance of gaining the love of a lifetime, I hope you would stop being a coward and take the chance. Besides, if you really want my honest opinion – "

_Yes, because it has helped so much thus far, _Lan Fan thought bitterly.

" – I think you and the prince are made for each other."

_Oh_.

Lan Fan's vitriolic words sparked out on her tongue, leaving her mind blank in the aftermath of Makanay's simple words. The woman, having said her piece, had already turned on her side and was returning to sleep. Lan Fan, on the other hand, was reeling. Simply because she had no clue of what else to do, she stiffly returned to her sleeping position and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling of the barracks.

_…perhaps it would not be so bad if you fell in love with your prince._

She squeezed her eyes tight and clenched her jaw until it ached. Makanay was right on one count, at least. These were _dangerous _feelings. How was it that everything had seemed so simple just a few short days ago? Now it felt like a puzzle she might not solve in a lifetime.

What truly scared her was not Makanay's accusation, or even the implications that there could be _more._ It was the uncertainty she felt within herself that gave her simple suggestions power. If she _loved_ the young lord, everything would change.

_But then, hasn't everything already changed?_

Lan Fan sighed into the night and scrubbed her face in agitation, even as she heard Makanay's breathing level out and deepen. She wished she had the energy to be spiteful, but in the end, she felt like a washed out mess. She had been wrung dry by emotions that were leering at her from the shadows of her fears, and all she wanted to do was sleep. _Peacefully _sleep.

She focused on her breathing and nothing else, until the razor-sharp thoughts flying around her head became dulled and harmless. In the morning they would be cut her to ribbons, but for now, she was safe in the protective shroud of exhaustion. Like a stone falling to earth, she fell towards sleep, and to the answers she secretly hoped would be waiting for her there.


End file.
